


No One's Son

by LanternWisp



Series: Nests and Cages [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Batfamily Feels, Black Mask being a creep, Dysfunctional Family, Gen, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Jason-Centric, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-09-20 22:16:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9518387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LanternWisp/pseuds/LanternWisp
Summary: When it's revealed to Gotham's underworld that Red Hood is the second Robin and without the Bat Clan's protection, it's not long before every gang, cartel and rogue he's pissed off has him in their crosshairs. It's almost as bad as the "family"'s determination to find him first.





	1. Chapter 1

Working with the Bats wasn't like a job where you could clock in, do your bit and clock out again. From the start of the case to the end, you lived and breathed the mission.

Normally that was fine by Jason. He was probably second only to the Batman himself when it came to devoting oneself to justice - albeit a very different brand of it.

But when you worked with the Bat Clan, played by the Bat Rules, and lived on the Bat Radar, it was _never-ending._

Jason wasn't just forbidden from killing for this particular job, but firing lethal shots on any of the jobs he was working would at best mean getting booted from his own case, and like hell he was going to let that happen. So for now he just had to live with being unable to even draw his gun without feeling keen eyes on him from a dark, unidentified somewhere.

Which brought him to the surveillance: he was being watched constantly _._ Complaining got him the same terse response that everyone on the team was working under the same conditions. He'd have called bullshit if he didn't know it was true. Batman had become exponentially more paranoid in the time Jason was away: everyone under his shadowy metaphorical wing was tracked, expected to check in routinely, and grilled for details if they ever missed a rendezvous or went offline.

Jason did what he could to cope. He avoided the cave like his life depended on it, communicating his findings and movements almost exclusively through Oracle. Having Barbara in his ear wasn't a bad time - she never mentioned anything from the past and didn't let resentment or disappointment seep into her calm and clinical tone. She took his quips, even the most vitriolic, with a hum or a scoff and shouldered on. He also had to admit that having a team in the background was efficient, with something to be said about divvying the work load among people who were competent.

None of this made the overall ordeal worth it, however.

Jason's brow ticked from where he lay on the cold rooftop, his sniper rifle assembled and ready before him.

"Can I _help_ you?"

He felt rather than heard two feet landing behind him.

"I heard you're working with us on the super drug case. Thought I'd come 'round. Say hi."

He adjusted the focus of the rifle. "Hi."

The irritable click of a tongue. "I heard you were a miserable bastard, not a boring one."

"Come back later and I'll be sure to act extra crazy for your amusement."

The girl - blonde, teenaged, decked in black and purple - snorted.

"I bet that guilt tripping B.S. works on the boys like a dream."

"Usually gets them off my back for a hot minute, yeah. Not that they're ever looking for excuses."

Batgirl rolled onto her stomach to lie beside him. "So. Whatcha doing?"

"Watching." Jason nodded to the building across the street. "The traffic and security cams out here are ancient, Oracle can't get a clear picture."

Batgirl mouthed an 'oh' and unlatched a set of fancy binoculars from her belt. They had a bat logo etched into the top.

"Cute."

She stuck her tongue out. "And where do you get _your_ toys, huh? Steal 'em?"

"Stealing? That doesn't sound like me."

Batgirl laughed as she scanned the area. "So this is one of those warehouses that Black Mask is prepping, huh? I thought it was a li'l weird, all those kids wandering around. Figured another orphanage scandal had happened or something."

"Decent guess," Jason said. "And what are _you_ doing?"

Batgirl looked at him innocently, giving her binoculars a little shake.

"I'm _watching._ "

"I've got this handled. Find your own roof."

She made a noise mock offense. "Rude. I finished my patrol early and go through the trouble of seeking you out, and what do I get? Surliness. I swear, you and the little man are two peas in a pod when it comes to manners."

Jason grimaced. The mere idea that he and Talia's demonic princeling had anything in common made him feel vaguely unclean.

"Oh, don't get your bat-panties in a bunch. You have to admit, the way you two sulk is uncanny."

"I take it you're the new bird's unpaid babysitter now?"

"If by that you mean am I saving him from Dick's coddling and Bruce's poor communication skills? Then yes."

"We should all be so lucky," Jason said wryly. "Seriously though. Why are you here."

"Me? I'm just trying to cotton on to the current situation. Any other day I'd be booting you in the head for what you did to Tim -"

"Someone's optimistic."

"But instead I'm told, quite unceremoniously I might add, that you're working with us. And not on anything especially dire that involves imminent risk to civilian life, or the end of the world, but like… drug tech? And it's weird. Doubly so because of how cagey everyone is being about it. Red Robin's so deep in his head he's barely talking, Nightwing seems outright pissed, even Oracle's being vague and do _not_ get me started on the big guy. Suffice to say that the rest of us are very confused. You seem straightforward enough, so. What gives?"

"What gives is that Batman hijacked my case," Jason said, watching a caravan of trucks pull up to the warehouse.

"Yeah, he does that. And?"

"And in the process it came out that he never told anyone about how I used to turn tricks."

A pause. The math was pretty plain and unforgiving for anyone with even the basest knowledge of when Jason had been adopted.

"Ah," Batgirl said. "That'd do it."

Jason drew back from the rifle to cast her a slightly bemused glance.

"Hey, I might not have been a street kid but I'm familiar with the wrong side of the tracks." Batgirl shrugged. "Better than the others, anyway."

He turned back with a grunt. "You would think they'd never even been to Gotham."

"Well, come on. Knowing that it happens and knowing it happened to someone in your life is pretty different."

"I'm not in their lives."

Batgirl huffed a sigh. "You batmen are painful to watch."

"I'm not -"

"Bruh you are wearing a bat symbol on your tits _right now_ , don't even."

"You should see them when I turn the zapper on," Jason said as crates began to get unloaded in the shadows of the warehouse below. "And it's ironic, okay. A statement."

"Oho, well look at you." Batgirl scoffed. "I _totally_ remember when I wore my dad's old mask as a 'statement'. Sure showed him, I did."

"Shut up." Jason shifted to watch armed men cycle around the perimeter. "Just give it a week for the shock and pity to roll off and everything will be back to normal. Maybe Nightwing'll fuck off back to Bludhaven for a brood about being left out of the loop, but before you know it it'll all be under the rug again."

"You think so."

"Oh yeah." Jason stood up and rummaged through his pockets. "Since you're here, make yourself useful and help me bug the place. "You see where they've started rigging up the lab space?"

"And their surveillance room. I'm on it." Batgirl jumped to her feet before a moment's hesitation. "And just so I know... that stuff. It's not a secret then?"

The simple question made Jason pause. Up until now no one had bothered to ask, always assuming that of _course_ it was, of course he wanted this dark and filthy thing buried and hidden.

He could only imagine the tense silence and disjointed communication people were living in back at the cave. They were meant to be working a goddamn _job_ for fuck's sake, not awkwardly navigating around one another on account of what should have been ancient history.

"No." Jason clasped his helmet on. "It's no secret."

"Hm." Batgirl jostled the devices in her hand as if weighing them. "I don't trust you, you know. I can only go by what I've heard so I dunno if you're crazy or what. But this is your case and I believe you'll see it through, by our rules if you have to. But once it's done… if you try to hurt Tim or Damian, I'll make you regret it."

"Not so worried about the others?" Jason asked with a tilt of his head. "At least you're open about playing favorites."

"It's not that," Batgirl said, a smirk teasing the edge of her lips. "I just know Nightwing's beyond your weight class. And Black Bat is out of _all_ of ours. Robin has other skills and Red Robin is brilliant in his own way, but let's face it - in a straight fight you'd wreck them."

"This is the strangest threat I've ever received," Jason said. "more flattering than what I'm used to."

"Just making it clear where we stand is all."

Jason liked this one. He didn't doubt that Cain had been good at the job but also couldn't imagine she'd remind him this much of the original.

"Well fair enough." He withdrew his grapple. "And by the by, congrats on moving past the green tights. Batgirl's a _way_ better gig."

"Oh trust me, I know."

* * *

 

The next few days were spent dutifully listening to the chatter that filtered through the bugs planted at the various outposts. It gave Jason the opportunity to shut himself in a safehouse away from the prying eyes he still couldn't shake, to sit at his computer rig and listen with some amount of smugness as drug-running lackeys bitched about Red Hood. It wasn't long before news came in about when Black Mask's equipment would be hitting the docks.

If it were up to him, he'd be there alone. Unfortunately it wasn't.

"This is ridiculously unnecessary," Jason said, crouched in the shadows atop one of walls of metal shipping crates. "You know what they say about too many chefs."

" _This was our case too, you know._ " Red Robin groused through Jason's helmet.

"Yeah, and how was that going for you?"

" _No fighting._ " Black Bat's voice was calm to the point of being toneless; frankly it was little eerie.

He hadn't even seen her or felt her presence all night.

"Uh huh. And what's _your_ excuse for being here, princess?"

" _She's here for back up. This equipment is based off of leaked designs for instruments commissioned by Wayne Pharmaceuticals. It represents billions of investment into cutting edge advancements in medicinal chemistry -_ "

"Ah, so that's where you rich boys get your intel. I had wondered."

" - _and you can bet that Black Mask is going to have arranged for significant security for its transport._ " Red Robin finished.

"I could take 'em."

And he was reasonably sure he could. It would involve rigging up a lot of bombs around the docks, probably taking a bullet or two and then sinking that boatload of shiny tech to the bottom of the bay, but if the goal was denying Blackie his new toys…

" _Can you be serious for five minutes?_ " Nightwing snapped. _"I want to get this job done, not worry about keeping you from getting yourself shot!"_

Jason felt his brow rise. Batgirl hadn't been exaggerating about Nightwing's bad mood. He debated making a death quip because really, Dick walked right into it, but ultimately decided it wasn't worth taking a wingding (seriously?) to the face.

"Believe me, no one wants this to be over with more than I do," Jason said blandly, craning his neck to spy a caravan of vehicles rolling up to the docks. "And would you look at that. Right on time."

Conversation ceased as they watched the hired muscle pile out of their cars, loading their guns and grouching to one another about the cold. One man blinked a flashlight out into the black and across the bay another light winked in response.

" _Everyone get into position_."

The boat pulled up to dock, a small unlit freighter with peeling paint. The night vision setting on Jason's helmet picked out men from the jostling shadows on board.

"We've got about twenty armed goons, plus the fifteen by the cars. Submachine guns, mainly." Jason said, watching a group of men stand around something large and bulky. "What are we looking at, boys? … Mounted turret. Fun."

" _Still think you could have taken them?_ " Red Robin asked.

"Yes."

" _Do you see the shipment?_ " Nightwing said.

"Not from here. They must be keeping it below deck."

A few men from the cars were starting to break away, probably to establish a perimeter. Easy pickings.

" _Black Bat_?"

" _On it_."

_"Wait until after they've given the all clear to unload. Red Robin will lay down cover and disable the turret, then he and I will take down the men on the boat. Red Hood, you handle the men on the ground and make sure no one calls for reinforcements."_

"Roger dodger." Jason readied his guns and eyed the men by the cars.

He was only packing rubber bullets tonight, but he wasn't too torn up about it. Rubber bullets hurt like a son of a bitch, could even kill if he was careless. Or inspired.

Jason dropped soundlessly to the ground and waited in the darkness, watching as heavy wooden crates were finally lifted from the bowels of the freighter on a crane. Black Bat would now be systematically taking down the perimeter guard, and Jason only just caught the slip of movement that marked Red Robin scaling up the shadowed side of the boat.

The smoke bombs popped in perfect sequence, drowning the entire deck in a thick dusky cloud. The shouting started and men snapped their guns towards the disturbance, leaving themselves wide open.

"It's the bats! I fucking told you -"

Jason punched the nearest thug in the throat and broke another's nose with his own gun before firing two brisk shots into another two men's knees. The rubber slugs made a satisfying _crack_ against breaking bones.

He rolled smoothly behind one of the cars as a barrage of submachine fire rang into the night. Bullets hit the splintered wood of the docks and clattered loudly into steel crates; over on the ship were more sounds of yelled orders and cursing, accompanied by the echoing gunshots and dull thuds of combat.

Beautiful.

He leaned out of cover to strategically fire a few shots, just enough to give him an opening to launch over the car and plant a boot right in some poor bastard's face. A pistol whip here, a punch to the temple there - it was the kind of fun that made the nights of tracking and eavesdropping worth it.

Glass shattered as bullets skimmed past and into the windshield of another car. One of them scraped paint off his helmet and Jason fired rubber into the shoulder of the goon responsible, causing him to drop his rifle with a scream.

The whole thing must have lasted maybe five minutes.

Men lay around him in varying states of agony, clutching injuries or just flat out unconscious. One good hit was usually all it took to make a normal person stop fighting. It wasn't like in movies where the bad guys could and would keep going with lead in their sides or blood streaming down their faces; it was a little disappointing, frankly.

So when Black Bat descended from literally nowhere to begin cuffing and zip-stripping people, Jason couldn't help but roll his eyes behind his mask. Over on the boat the smoke had mostly cleared, leaving Red Robin to putter around doing the same to the defeated men there. Nightwing was probably searching the boat for hiding runaways.

"So much for Black Mask's heavy security, hm?" Jason asked, giving an unconscious brute a harsh nudge with his boot.

"It's the four of us," Black Bat said simply. "Different than if you had done it alone."

Jason snorted. She tilted her head at him and pointedly tapped the line scraped on the side of his helmet.

"One lucky shot. Big deal."

"Mm."

"The job got done, didn't it? Maybe now Nightwing can dislodge that escrima stick from his ass. Not that I'm one to hope for miracles."

"He's upset."

"No kidding."

Black Bat made an impatient-sounding huff. "You - "

Her words were cut off by the sudden sound of unrestrained screaming. The both of them whirled to see the incapacitated criminals were writhing and blubbering uncontrollably. Jason hadn't hurt them _that_ bad, what in the hell-

A thin hiss of decompressing air was suddenly impossible to ignore as thick clouds of red smoke began to form all around the shipyard.

"Oh fuck."

 _"What's happening!?"_ Red Robin demanded.

Cars were roaring down the crate-lined gravel road to the harbor. Black Mask's muscle drove around in sleek black cars with reinforced paneling, but these looked like average Uptown clunkers. Unremarkable, but as they neared and Jason squinted past the glare of headlights, he could just make out the burlap masks the men were wearing.

"Scarecrow," Black Bat said coldly.

" _Get out of there and regroup, now!_ "

From an unknown source a smoke grenade clattered across the rotted wood of the docks, stopping right between them. Time slowed and Jason didn't even pause to think before he was unbuckling his helmet. If what he'd heard about Cain was true, the absolute _last_ thing they needed right now was for her to go fear-rabid two paces away from him.

The Red Hood helmet was comically too big for her as he forced it over her head, the airtight seal activating far lower on her neck than it did on his. Her eyes probably didn't even align with the visor holes, but whatever. She could get by without them.

The device burst a split second later, pluming a tower of red smoke at their feet.

Jason staggered backwards, but the familiar chemical scent of fear gas was already in his nose.

He didn't feel a thing when he hit the floor, didn't even know he had fallen until the world violently shuddered from impact. He vaguely grasped the sound of Cain's light and impossibly quick footsteps moving away from him, and could only distantly regret that he wouldn't get to witness Black Bat making a full-tilt charge while wearing what must've looked like a red jack-o-lantern.

But the sounds of combat and shouting were already fading away as the marina began to warp and melt. Blaring lights burned in his eyes, drowning everything else out in a wave of white.

Then the clip show started.

He was 6 and a beer bottle was shattering against the wall two feet to his left, the rain of brown glass sparkling.

He was 9 and getting beaten bloody by one of the bigger kids behind a dumpster.

8, his mom wasn't able to get out of bed.

15, or so he thought, and clawing through his own casket.

17, running through the woods with Talia's death grip on his hand.

9, huddled in a freezing alley and sure he wasn't going to see morning.

11, hiding from the cops as they beat and hauled away the kids who hadn't been fast enough.

15 for real and watching from a bloodstained floor as a rusted crowbar came down again.

18\. Holding a gun to the Joker's head and desperate for Batman to pull the trigger.

The highlight reel went fast, not allowing Jason much reaction aside from a gasp or flinch as he seized on the floor. It was only when he felt hands on him, grasping at his shoulders and arms, that he actually started screaming.

He was 10 and on scuffed bloody knees in a dim alley.

"Get the fuck off!" He struck blindly with his fist and felt it connect with something he couldn't see, his consciousness splitting between the alley and the docks. "Don't touch me!"

There was another set of hands grabbing his shoulders trying to help restrain his flailing limbs and he didn't know what was real anymore. The pain in Jason's throat grew sharp but he couldn't stop screaming, kicking and twisting, trying to curl and shield himself.

He was drowning. Green, green everywhere and  _burning_ -

A needle was pricking him in the neck.

" _Jason_ ," Something in him recognized that voice, deep and vicious but resounding in his chest comfortingly.

He felt his body relax against his will, sinking against the cold asphalt. The sound of his own pulse was thunder in his ears and he could feel the vibration of it across his skin. Jason blinked once, twice, three times and the alley was gone. He was lying on the ground beside the unforgiving black of the Gotham Bay, the harsh light of a nearby lamp eclipsed by the familiar black cowl filling his vision.

"… Bruce?"

Maybe someone had called him when shit hit the fan or he'd been tracking Scarecrow. Or he had been there the whole time, lurking in the background. All were equally possible.

Batman's hold on Jason's wrists loosened somewhat.

"I'm here."

The second set of hands was still on his shoulders and Jason realized that his head was actually resting on someone else's lap - probably to keep him from braining himself on the floor in his struggle. He tilted back and saw Black Bat, hoodless but with the pointed tips of her domino slightly crumpled.

Jason's arms were heavy and uncoordinated in a way characteristic of the drugged or very drunk, and reaching up to wipe his face turned into basically slapping himself. His hand came away wet.

His head lolled to the side, making him belatedly realize that area had gone quiet. It felt like he'd only been down for a few minutes, but clearly it'd been much longer.

He cleared his swollen throat. "Crane."

"Scarecrow wanted the synthesis equipment for his own purposes. Nightwing is handling him now. Red Robin is taking care of Black Mask's men."

Jason nodded numbly even though the words were barely making it past the cotton that seemed to be clogging his brain. Everything was a dull hum around him, his head heavy with the nausea of the half-lucid. Right now nothing felt real, not the ground beneath his back or the living shadows holding him.

"B… why did you redact my file?" His voice was small and hoarse and didn't sound like him at all.

Batman was silent.

"Did you… did you think I was ashamed?" Jason swallowed against the pain in his throat. "Were _you_ ash-"

" _No_."

The fierceness of the denial was enough to make Jason flinch, and Black Bat's hands held even more firm on his shoulders.

"No, Jason." Batman said, more gently. "I have never thought less of you for where you came from. I only wanted to protect you."

Jason huffed a weak laugh. As if protecting him hadn't long since been proved an exercise in futility.

Maybe Mike had been right after all - Jason was a Gotham kid. A real one, assembled and built with dirt and blood and dark alleyways, and he couldn't be washed clean of what made him. Was that why Batman took him in? To prove that if this ragged boy could be saved, so could the shadowed city he loved so much?

"You wanted it to be like it never happened." Jason sounded as tired as he felt. "But it did."

Batman's grip on Jason's hands tightened almost painfully for a brief moment before going slack.

"… I know, son."

For a moment they sat there in the silence.

"Are you," Batman hesitated. "Are you cold?"

Jason gave a shaky shrug. He was trembling but whether it was from the temperature or the lingering effect of the fear toxin was hard to say.

Black Bat helped roll Jason upright and he slumped against the symbol on Batman's chest, the cape draping around his shoulders. It was both jarring and comforting to be reminded that he wasn't the tiny underfed prepubescent of his hallucination, but 21 and just two inches shy of rivaling Bruce in height.

The suit was thermally regulated and Jason could feel some of that warmth seeping through. The adrenaline that had been keeping him awake began to fade as the Batmobile's engine roared closer.

* * *

 

Waking up in the Batcave's medical room with a throbbing headache and no sense of time wasn't an experience Jason wanted to have, but the universe always had a nice way of telling him to go fuck himself. The lights in the med bay had been dimmed and no alarms or sirens went off when he slid the IV needle from his arm, so he took that as a good sign. If they'd wanted him to stick around they should've cuffed him to something.

The job was done now and Jason wasn't on his way to a cell so it had all gone as well as could be expected, preceding drama not withstanding. Dick and Drake would probably knuckle down to find their leak; the one responsible for getting Black Mask those prototype blueprints from Wayne Pharmaceuticals, but Red Hood wasn't here for that white-collar corporate espionage crap. His bit in this game was done.

He slipped out of the cave to get on with his life.

 

Days passed and Jason was confident he could put the whole thing behind him. Nothing had really changed between him and the Bats, after all. Despite the heart-to-heart that he already knew would never be spoken of again by anyone, no opinions had been altered, no rules rewritten, no forgiveness given or asked for. Red Hood could walk away this time but there weren't any delusions that his next encounter with the flock would be friendly.

It was little over a week after the shipyard incident when his burner phone buzzed with a new message. It was the number he gave to his underlings - the gang leaders and dealers he'd forced under his control - so Jason's first thought was that a subordinate needed a word. He had been a little too busy to give them his usual level of attention, after all.

Unknown number.

Jason frowned as he checked his texts and image after image was sent to his inbox. It was a series of grainy screenshots, the kind that came from old surveillance cameras that recorded in black and white and took no audio.

Shot after shot of him having a seizure on the ground by the docks, Black Bat pinning him down as Batman stuck a needle in his neck.

Black Bat cupping Jason's masked face on her lap as a lingering Nightwing and Red Robin were ordered away.

Batman pulling him close in a way that could not be mistaken for anything but affectionate.

His phone began to ring, and Jason swallowed dryly as he hit the green button.

" _I know the quality's not very good, but I think we got your good side_ ," Black Mask's voice drawled over the line. " _That bitch on Batman's payroll snatched the recording, but luckily I was viewing live and managed to save the good bits for myself_."

Jason tightened his grip on the phone.

" _You know it's all making sense now. Why Bats never took you down or fed you to the wolves like he should've. Why he's let you screw me over these past few years. You're_ his boy _aren't you?_ " A rough chuckle. " _Only it's pretty clear you and him aren't seeing eye to eye anymore. Isn't that_ interesting."

"Sounds like that mask is restricting some flow to your brain, big guy."

Mask gave a cruel laugh. " _You can give up the act,_ Robin _. It's over_."

Jason was pretty sure the glass of his screen was cracking under his fingertips.

"You seem to be confusing me for a five-foot imp in tights."

" _Oh, no no. Batman's always had an endless supply of you brats, everyone knows that._ "

"Personally I think the girl was the only one worth a damn."

" _Really? I wasn't impressed."_

Jason ground his teeth behind his helmet.

 _"It took some digging, but I'm looking at footage of a little bird with that kids' club right now, and it's dated just after Nightwing graduated past the pixie boots_."

Jason let himself wince at that. Most people either mixed him and Dick up thanks to the matching uniform, or him and Drake due to the quick replacement, mistakenly thinking there had only ever been four Robins. His stint on the Teen Titans had been short and only done to make Dick happy but nothing much had come of it - he hadn't acknowledged his existence any more than usual, the team only saw him as the awkward little brother wearing the original's legacy, and to top it off him being with the Titans made Batman moody.

Out of all the Robins, Jason had definitely been kept on the shortest leash.

" _It was harder than pulling teeth to dig up any info on what the hell happened to you. So I rang up Freeze; paid through the nose just so he could tell me that everyone in the super special Bat-hate club thinks the Joker offed you years ago. Would have saved me some trouble, that's for sure_."

Profanity streamed through Jason's mind. Of course the Rogues Gallery would know. They'd been up close and personal with every kid that ever clung to Batman's cape, and it figured the Joker would brag about what he'd done to that little inner circle of crazy.

"Well it's been real fun taking this ride into lunacy with you, but now I've got work to do. And my work generally involves ruining your work, so."

" _Not sure how easy that's going to be once word starts spreading of who you really are, Robin. Can I call you Robin? I mean I gotta say that the current look's good, but not as flattering as the boyshorts_."

"Keep talking like that and you'll owe me dinner."

" _Oh I think I owe you a lot more than that, but it'll be more fun to watch as your men and every other goon in this city with a bone to pick with your old man comes at you first. Off the top of my head I can think of a good few._ "

"Even if you were right, just because the Bat doesn't come to my birthday parties anymore doesn't mean he'll let you take me out in his city."

" _Of course not. But what's he gonna do when every scumbag in Gotham starts wriggling out of the woodworks? He couldn't protect you before. And even if you don't get offed at the very least you'll be ruined and unable to play crime boss anymore in my town. Win-win for me_ ," Mask said with a low laugh. " _You brought this on yourself kid, and your old man knows it too_."

Jason's phone was shattering across the street before the screen even registered that the call had ended.

For a long minute his head swum in a tide of anger and panic. This could get bad very fast. He had to think damage control, but at the moment his thoughts were just a mess of garbled swears because fuck, how did Black Mask of all people figure this out just from a single under-the-influence hug?

But there was no reason for Batman to be holding Red Hood. There was no reason for Red Hood to be back on the streets and not in Blackgate after clearly having been carried off in the Batmobile a mere week ago. And as much as Jason hated to admit it, Batman had always gone easy on him in the field and there was no good reason for that, either.

Except for one.

 _You brought this on yourself your old man knows it._ A dark voice echoed in his mind. _Just like last time._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jason has a very bad time.

Jason could feel the rumor spreading through his ranks like a disease.

At the start, the notion that Red Hood could secretly be the second Robin was laughable. Impossible. Who even remembered that scrappy, hot headed brat? Batman himself had still been an urban legend at that point, nowhere near the internationally (intergalactically, inter _dimensionally_ , what the hell) recognized co-leader of the Justice League that he was today.

But Gotham had her memories. After the first Robin changed his name and moved on, there _had_ been another, right? Less acrobatic, more heavy-hitting. As newer criminals consulted older ones, the rumor morphed from silly hearsay to being somewhat plausible.

Suddenly Red Hood's reputation of eluding and clashing with the Dark Knight was more damning than impressive and no amount of broken bones or bullets to the knee would shut people up.

Jason scowled at his phone for the hundredth time. Black Mask's pictures were grainy and blurry, but just clear enough to capture even the layman's imagination. They were circulating slowly through the criminal underbelly, but those who hadn't seen had heard. Before long they'd get to Oracle. Any longer than that, and they'd hit the _internet._

Jason peered up, voice clipped as he caught eyes honing in on the bat-symbol adorning his chest.

"You boys checking out my cup size over there?"

The men recoiled, averting their eyes and shifting warily with murmurs of "no boss" and "sorry boss".

Encounters with his subordinates already involved a lot more side-eyeing than before and the gangs under his control were starting to act up.

"It's just uh, you know," One of the underlings said, glancing at his peers for support. "there's… there's been more talk. About you."

"Really."

Jason pushed himself off of the crate he'd been perched on, making a leisurely circuit to the center of the storage building he'd gathered his men in.

"Listen up. Now I didn't want to even bother with this frankly ridiculous rumor, but I know that Black Mask's extended his 'offer' to most of you. Jump to his ship while the going's good, right? Hm?" Uncomfortable looks and avoided gazes. "But here's the thing: Blackie's been after my ass since day one, ain't no secret. Guy can't take a hint. So I know you're not so stupid as to think that this is anything but another elaborate game of his. Or that if you cross me, I'm not more than capable of finding you. Got it?"

Frantic nods, murmurs of assent.

"Good. Now get back to work."

Jason slipped into the shadows and watched as the men made their way out of the exit, ignoring the whispering and fidgeting of only half-convinced employees. It didn't matter - Gotham thugs would work for whatever psychopath got them paid. Suspicions weren't enough to make them turn on him. Not yet anyway.

The rumor just had to blow over.

"Nice speech. Would've left a stronger impression if you'd killed one, but that's just me."

The voice was close, _far_ too close over Jason's shoulder and felt like ice water running down his spine. He forced himself not to flinch or turn around too quickly.

"And what the fuck could you want?"

Deathstroke the Terminator (and wasn't that a name and a half) was leaning against the darkened wall, arms casually crossed over his chest.

"You know I always did mean to make time for you, back in the day," The mercenary said as if Jason hadn't spoken. "But daddy liked to keep you real close, huh? And it was all pretty blink-and-miss it."

Jason hoped he conveyed a dull and unimpressed air through his mask and not the angry glare he was actually giving.

"No idea what you're talking about. I think we're caught in some misunderstanding," Jason said, squaring up to him slowly and aware his every move was being watched. "If you're taking whatever Black Mask told you seriously -"

"I really didn't at first. But I've been aware of you for a while and I gotta say that your style is _eerily_ reminiscent of a couple people I know," Deathstroke said. "Though I've got to say, I did not expect this call."

"Really? Because I figured that if Black Mask had the balls and the lack of pride to sic you on me, he'd have done it sooner."

"Well you know how it is. People can be stubborn when it comes to the real cost of getting a job done right. Until the problem gets out of hand," Deathstroke looked him over lazily. "And you have, haven't you? Little bird playing at being a crime boss. Cute."

"Gotta chase your dreams and all that," Jason said coolly. "If the daughter of a low life mercenary can play hero, anything's possible."

He knew it was a mistake to bring Rose into this but there were precious few places you could hit Deathstroke and do damage.

"Funny you mention that," He was upright and advancing and Jason unholstered his guns in response. "So. Red Hood, Robin, Jason. Let's have a _talk_ about your relationship with my daughter."

Oh _no._

Taking Deathstroke on in close quarters was suicidal unless you were either invulnerable, Batman or one of the few he had a soft spot for. Jason was none of those things, and keeping Slade the fuck away from him wasn't easy when the guy liked slicing bullets out of the air like they were in a goddamn cartoon.

The shots echoed loudly in the confines of the storehouse and Jason was soon clambering up the scaffolding and through the rooftop escape.

"Now Jason, I'd hoped we could settle this like adults." Glass shattered as Deathstroke made his own exit through one of the skylights. "People who run from me only die tired."

Yeah, no. Distance is what Jason needed. Distance and way more ammo than he had.

"She's really just a friend!" Jason shouted over the firing of his grappler.

He bit his tongue and tasted blood as a throwing star buried itself in his right thigh, botching his landing on the neighboring roof.

" _Fucking_ goddammit," Jason clutched the wound and fired a few more shots as Deathstroke vaulted across the alley. "I have it on good authority that my thighs are my best feature, you son of a bitch."

"I'll aim higher next time."

Jason's hits were barely doing damage and he could feel the hot wet of his blood seeping around the shuriken still sticking out of his leg.

"You metas are such cheats," Jason said, watching Deathstroke practically shrug off a bullet to the shoulder.

"So says the dead boy."

Jason unsheathed Talia's knife just in time to catch the sword arcing down on him.

"Hm." Deathstroke leaned back slightly, assessing the flame dagger that had locked his katana against its hilt. "Now I _know_ I've seen this before. Where exactly have you been, _Hood_? Does dad know you've been playing with assassins?"

"My business ain't none of yours," Jason said through grit teeth. "Or his."

He broke the lock and ducked in time to dodge the sweep of Deathstroke's blade, stumbling back a few paces. He fired at the mercenary in quick succession, the bang of his guns ringing through the night.

The bullets that Deathstroke didn't bother to deflect either pinged off his armor or sank into his flesh with barely so much as a wince.

"You've got spirit kid, I'll give you that." he chuckled, examining his bleeding arm.

Jason took the opportunity to unhitch a smoke bomb from his belt and launch it between them, drowning the entire rooftop in a heavy, chalky haze.

"Ah, you lads and your toys."

He stepped across the gravel roofing as delicately as possible, reloading a clip of armor piercing rounds as he went.

"But we're both a bit old for playing hide and seek, Jason."

Then Deathstroke was lunging from the fog, sword catching the city lights while Jason had his back in the corner with his gun locked directly on the bastard's working eye.

His finger was twitch away from squeezing the trigger when Jason's arm was suddenly being twisted. His gun clattered to the ground as a loud metallic _clang_ filled the air.

Nightwing's escrima sticks ground against the mercenary's sword with a sickening screech, but they held.

"Big brother to the rescue, hm?" Slade said, sounding disproportionately pleased with the interruption.

"I told you once that you weren't going to be killing on my turf," Nightwing said, pushing him back and freeing their weapons.

"Last I checked this wasn't your turf. Guess it's back to dancing on the boss' strings for you?" Slade hummed. "But even Black Mask wouldn't pay me enough to kill the Batman's wretch. _Some_ people might live for his attention, but I don't need that trouble in my life."

Jason scowled from where he was keeping a hand clamped across his leg as blood seeped through his fingers. It wasn't like the consequences of killing him had been all that fucking significant for his last murderer.

"So why are you here?"

"Black Mask wants the boy here run out of town. I'm here to help by getting some blood in the water for the sharks. You've seen them swimming around, haven't you?"

Jason grimaced. Great. And there was no way his men hadn't heard the gunfire or at least caught a glimpse of the fight.

"Personally this is a relief to me. Here I thought Rose was running around with a drug lord, in which case I'd really have to kill him. For free." Deathstroke tilted his head appraisingly and Jason swore he saw the man's eye narrow through the mask. "Turns out it's just Batman's black sheep."

Nightwing's hands visibly clenched around the escrima.

"Well your message has been delivered and I'm pretty sure a good portion of the Bowery just saw and tweeted about the two of you tussling across the block. Is that all?"

Slade tapped his shoulder thoughtfully with a sword. "I was hoping to cut him up a li'l more, personally. But I suppose if he's being honest about my girl…"

"We worked together _once_." Jason ground out from behind clenched teeth.

"- then I'll let it slide. For you." He gave Dick's hair a rough tussle and sheathed his sword. "You look good, kid. Oh, but you might want to tighten up the babysitting shifts. I only just got here and I'm already hearing all _sorts_ of nasty things."

"And you were only just leaving."

Deathstroke melded into the night and at once Dick's posture relaxed. He turned to Jason and with concern in his eyes that had no right to be there, reaching for the bleeding injury only to have his hand harshly slapped away.

"Dammit Jason, you need stitches."

"I know how to lick my own wounds, _dick_. Thanks for running interference on your crazy ex, I think I've got it from here."

"He's not - Jason this is serious." Dick was glowering through the white lenses of his mask. "What's going on? Is Black Mask coming after you because of the docks bust?"

"As if Black Mask needs an excuse to ruin my day."

"Calling in Deathstroke is a couple dozen steps beyond trying to ruin your day. What aren't you telling me?"

"Plenty." Jason forced himself to his feet, Dick watching him with a tight expression.

"… I didn't realize you and Rose were close."

"We're not. But when someone blackmails you into fighting demons things happen."

Which had just been uncalled for, really. Kid Devil had been Jason's only friend as a kid, and even with the Lazarus spell still ringing in his ears he didn't need to be strong-armed into accompanying Rose on a rescue mission. But apparently she'd heard too many horror stories about the notorious Bad Robin and needed to be sure. So she'd taken the shoe box of (personal, _private_ ) letters that of _course_ Eddie had saved, and dangled it before Jason as collateral. He wondered if it was a common assumption that he knew a single damn thing about hell.

Dick opened his mouth like he wanted to ask, but thought better of it. "… I heard she went to visit Joey in New York."

"Yeah." Jason straightened, the smell of his own blood in his nose. "Looking for apartments too, I think. Getting right and all that."

A pause.

"You could get right too, Jason."

He cast Dick a venomous glare.

"Fuck off."

"I mean it. We could help you -"

"With what? Keeping my handle on Gotham's drug trade?" Jason asked incredulously. "It wasn't long ago that you were set to lock me up and throw away the key but now you want to bail me out?"

"I'm just saying that you don't have to do this. We could _get_ you help. There are - there are resources -"

Jason's fist cracked across Dick's jaw on pure instinct. Then he was undoing the clasps on his suddenly stifling helmet.

"Where the hell do you get off," He breathed. "Unbelievable. You think you know a damn thing about me, that you know what I need?"

"I know you're not getting it like this," Dick said coldly. "You're running around in alleyways with drug dealers and pimps on your payroll, shooting people like it's a game."

A game.

_Is this all a game to you?_

_Of course. All of life's a game._

Jason was laughing. Bitterly, disbelievingly, because that was the only way he did most days.

"Oh wow. I bet you all feel so good about yourselves up there in your manor, talking about how off the reservation I am. How I never took any of this shit seriously, how I fucking _had it coming_!" He cast his helmet to the ground and it shattered, circuitry and all. "You think I'm out here because I'm having fun? That I'm playing around, that I enjoy killing? I'm about to blow your goddamn mind because I don't like killing but I do it anyway because _someone_ has to have the balls around here to do what needs to be done."

"Killing doesn't help anyone."

" _Yes it does!"_ Jason's voice had taken days to heal from the screaming he did under the fear toxin, but he'd yell until his throat bled for all he cared. "Putting criminals through that joke of a legal system and by some goddamn miracle getting a conviction, do you think that does jack shit for victims!? Because lemme tell you, all those times they put my old man away not once did I feel any safer for it. Because he was still out there and he could come back and he _did._ And he'd never changed."

Jason flicked the excess blood off his hand, splattering the gravel.

"And fucking _Donny_ , you remember him? Prostituting kids then selling them when they hit sixteen, and what does Batman's justice do? Ten years and parole. Because the bad ones, the real bad ones are either too well connected or too experienced for anything to stick. So why don't you just be honest and admit that this is all for your own goddamn benefit because you don't have the spine to pull the trigger and put it on your conscience."

"And you expect me to believe that what you do isn't for your own benefit?" Dick said, raising his bruised face defiantly. "You've got a pretty specific list of people you'll cross the line for, Jay. Murderers, wife beaters, people who give drugs to kids -"

Dick faltered for a moment and Jason smirked cruelly.

"No, please. Go on. You were on a roll there." The smile slipped off his face. "Just left off rapists."

"Jason,"

"No. It's fine. Like I told blondie, it's not a _secret,_ " Jason said with faux casualness. "Mom's dealers were busting the door down for their money, but they said if I did some 'work' for them they'd call it square. I only got caught _once_ by the cops and it was because the bastard who bought my time insisted I smoke with him. Hard to make a clean getaway when you're 4 feet tall and high as balls."

He shrugged airily.

"I wouldn't have done it, but he was rich and my pimps probably would've sold me if I pissed him off. They sure loved to tell me how much eyes like mine would buy, especially with how much mixed kids are worth. And late bloomers make all the money, lemme tell you -"

"Stop," Dick took a step back, his voice cracking.

"Only the best part of the story happens after I was arrested. Because you know what? That trust fund bitch brought in his lawyers and flashed his checkbook and he _walked_. No one ever even heard about him being caught with his pants down and getting high with a ten year old. The cops handed me over to some social workers and by the next month I'd slipped through the cracks and was on the street again. I get home and the lights don't work because my pimps figured I was in the system for good and stopped meeting the bills. And mom was dead."

Dick looked like he was genuinely struggling not to be sick, but Jason couldn't dredge up any satisfaction from it.

"Don't look so damn scandalized, _he_ had the same look on his face when he found out where I'd been. But what was I supposed to think? A man with everything taking in some gutter trash like me. After I tried to 'pay' him he was afraid to come within three feet of me for weeks."

Jason laughed, cold and humorless. "See I've got no use for your pity, Dick. You never had time for me before I died and certainly didn't care about me after I came back. Guess everyone loved me most when I was in the ground, huh? If this was what it took to get your attention, you're a couple years late."

He stepped across the broken shards of his helmet, grappling gun in hand.

"So get lost. And don't come back unless it's to take me down."

* * *

 

There was a tangible shift in the air of things going from bad to worse.

Everyone knew Deathstroke made a hobby out of kicking Batman's birds around - hell, half the reason he turned up that night was probably to complete his set. Getting chased around the city by him had released a whole new wave of red on the sea, and having fucking Nightwing intervene on top of it accelerated a process that might've otherwise taken three times as long.

Now even going on basic patrol wasn't easy. Gotham's lowest had a powerful hate-on for the Bat and his flock, but Red Hood's defector status actually made it _worse_. He was accessible. Alone. And had always liked to play rougher with criminals than anyone else. It was a reputation he was about to make good on because if he had to deal with another roving band of assholes with blunt objects shouting that they were about to "clip [his] wings" he was gonna stop being so generous about leaving them unbroken appendages to hobble home with.

Everything from the past month was starting to add up though: the fitful sleep, the constant barrage of thugs, not knowing who in his contact list wanted him dead, and the manageable-but-distracting stitched wound in his leg that he'd already pulled twice in his escapades.

It wasn't long before Red Hood was being called by his lieutenants, who were asking to set up a meeting in the basement of an East End dive bar. Probably to set straight the fresh hell that was raining down on their operation.

It was Jason's habit to arrive early, listen to the criminal banter and then make a dramatic appearance like he'd been fashionably late. He was also admittedly pretty distracted by the sour mood his encounter with Nightwing had left him with (pretty boy bastard; he could sit and spin). Unfortunately these two factors together meant that it didn't trip any internal alarms when Jason showed up and no one was there yet.

Then he noticed the indentations on the stained carpet that showed the pool table had been moved. Moved, in a sleazy bar that hadn't so much as brushed the dead flies off the mantle since the 70's.

Jason had craned his neck under the table and taken in the two pounds of C-4 strapped to the underside before realizing that he maybe underestimated the situation's rate of escalation.

Bastards.

So now his subordinates had graduated past suspicious glances and whispers to actively trying to screw him. Be it due to Black Mask's promise of 'get rid of your boss and I'll go easy on you when the whole city's mine again' or genuinely believing he was a former Robin.

He'd gotten out with time to spare and watched mournfully as one of the few bars in the area that actually had beer nuts went up in a plume of flames and shattered glass. 

"This is not my month."

"I'll say."

Suddenly a long needle was plunging into his neck, straight through the gap between his helmet and his collar.

"You motherfucking goddamn - " He choked, feeling his limbs go heavy.

"Ssh," The sedative swum through his veins and Jason hit the floor.

* * *

 

"- really could be?"

"Nah, look at the size of him. Li'l punk was _way_ smaller."

"They all were. Except the red one, he's still pretty tiny."

"Waitwaitwait, I think he's comin' round... "

Fingers were snapping in Jason's face as he groggily forced his eyelids open with a groan.

"Theeere you are."

Jason blinked rapidly to clear his vision and slowly came to realize three things. One, he was bound to a chair with something far thicker than rope. Two, his helmet had been sloppily cracked off, exposing his face but leaving the seal and some jutting red shards to crown his neck. Three, he was sitting in a dimly lit room with the varied sounds of the Iceberg Lounge filtering through the walls, surrounded by four of the absolute last people he wanted to see.

"Oh for fuck's sake."

"Language." Ivy scolded lightly, the vines tightening around Jason's forearms.

He grit his teeth and reflexively twisted against his restraints, but knew from experience that actually damaging the plants would only get her pissed off.

"The hell did you do to my helmet, witch?"

"Well we couldn't work them fancy clasps," Harley said defensively from her perch on thepoker table, massive hammer at her feet. "I was gentle!"

Jason became aware of a throbbing in his temple.

"Hnng."

"Be that way, then." Riddler said with a twirl of his cane. "So what do you think, Harv? D'you think it's him?"

Two-Face blew a cloud of cigar smoke across the table and Jason fought to keep his fraying composure. He'd never had much love for his father, but that didn't mean he was happy sitting across from the bastard that killed him.

"I told you. Six years ain't long enough for the kid to sprout like that," Dent said, mismatched eyes fixed on Jason as he thumbed his coin.

"Children grow up, Harvey," Ivy said. "And he's grown up so pretty, hasn't he?"

Jason snorted. 'Pretty' was a very generous way of describing his heavily bruised everything.

"Come off it, Ivy. We both know you're as gay as the day is long."

The corner of her crimson lips twitched.

"It _is_ you." She gave his cheek a patronizing pinch that damn near broke skin, rounding it off with a hard slap that made Jason see stars. "Always the little scamp. I suppose I'm not entirely displeased."

"That so."

"The Joker was just unbearable for at least a year after your little accident. Moreso than usual. Repulsive little man." Ivy's eyes flashed.

"Nothing was the same after that." The Riddler sighed dramatically. "Things used to be _fun_ , you know? Back in the day. It could get rough sometimes but no one _really_ got hurt."

Ivy hummed, toying with the dirt under her nails. "And killing a child. I did not approve."

"I wasn't wild about it either." Jason said, his gaze wandering to where Harley was awkwardly drumming her fingers on the table.

"But you aren't a child anymore," Ivy said, tracing her lips thoughtfully. "So… what should we do with you?"

"Coin already decided I ain't killing him today," Two-Face said, grabbing his drink and getting up. "The rest of you can do what you want."

They watched him go, probably to play cards with Penguin or some other villains' night bullshit.

"So what _do_ you want? If you're looking to kill me I think you'll have to take a number. Black Mask is a man scorned," Jason said, fighting the urge to cough blood onto someone's face.

That probably wouldn't go over well.

"We've heard. _Everyone's_ heard," Harley said swinging her feet off the table. "Saw those cute pictures too. Wa'n't it sweet, Red?"

"Adorable," Ivy said blandly.

Harley leaned closer, manhandling Jason's face.

"Freckles! The second Robin had freckles, didn't he?" She sounded honestly _hopeful_ and frankly it was freaking Jason out.

He pulled out of her grip. "Tell me you didn't drag me out here to count my pores."

"Sue us for being curious. If you'd prefer it we _could_ put you out of your misery…" Riddler said. "Might even be doing you a favor. I'll bet all this talk about you has taken some of the wind from Joker's sails."

Jason's eyes narrowed. "You hear from him?"

"Oh he's still locked up tight for now. At the rate you're going, maybe you'll see him soon." Riddler smirked. "What with how bad you've been, even Batman can't keep letting you slip by forever. Sooner or later you're going to be getting comfortable on _our_ side of the fence."

"I'm nothing like you." Jason snarled, pulling his aching body against his restraints. "And Batman doesn't _let_ me do anything."

"Now usually I'd echo the sentiment," All heads snapped their attention to the newcomer. "but we know he could certainly be a lot meaner if he wanted to be."

"Selina," Ivy said warmly, drawing back. "This is a pleasant surprise."

Riddler snorted. "She's here to ruin the fun, per usual. _What's a disease you can't live without_ -"

"Put a sock in it, Eddie." Catwoman circled around the table, goggles pushed up to her forehead as she assessed Jason's condition. "Well you seem to be in one piece, if barely. Everyone's been looking for you since your little meeting went up in smoke. If you ask me it's giving a few people unpleasant deja vu."

Jason scoffed. "Picking through the rubble already. Eager much?"

Selina frowned disapprovingly but still waved in the direction of Jason's bonds.

"I'll be taking it from here, Pam."

"A shame. Here I thought Hood was going to stay for some fun," Ivy said even as she withdrew, vines trailing after her into the shadows like a wedding train. "Perhaps next time, redbird."

Harley moved to follow, kissing the tips of her fingers and using them to give the welt on Jason's forehead a dizzying tap.

"'S good to see you, kid."

Then there was just the Riddler. He leaned against the table and fixed Jason with an appraising look.

"It was some murky business, you know. The Hush game."

Jason froze.

"And it was all very suspect, hearing about that missing body. When Hush suggested the 'Jason Todd' ploy, I had no idea it was you. _Your_ idea. That was good." Riddler turned away, half-singing under his breath. " _He comes to bedsides, icy bridges, battlefronts and crumbling ridges; when he comes, he comes alone, taps a shoulder, then is gone~_ "

"She."

"Hm?" Nigma paused in the doorway, cane propped on his shoulder.

"Death. She's a _she._ "

Riddler tilted the hat away from his face, eyes unreadable and brow arched.

"… We'll be seeing you around, champ. Hope you're more ready than you were today."

The door swung shut behind him with a final clang. Catwoman immediately moved to help Jason to his feet.

"You know you're a lot heavier than you used to be. Luckily I have plenty of experience hauling around 6'2" vigilantes that don't know when to quit."

"Of course you do." Jason shrugged out of her hold. "Look, I don't need to be escorted. I have a safe house just over in -"

"Cape Carmine? Red Robin's already looking for you there."

Fuck. "Fine, there's another down by -"

"Down by the river, right. Batgirl."

"Crime Alley."

"The big guy himself has eyes on that one."

Jason swore a stream that would make the kids back home proud. Did _everyone_ know where he made camp?

"Easy there. If it's so important for you to duck the capes, you can crash at my place. But just for the night, alright? You're tangled in a whole mess of trouble right now."

"Don't need any charity." Jason grumbled.

His legs were wobbly from the drug, but at the very least moving under his own power.

"This is me you're talking to, remember? Charity's not a currency I deal in either. We'll just call it a favor." Selina tapped him on the nose. "And my personal weakness for ragged strays."

* * *

 

Selina's apartment was far more pristine and extravagant than its East End neighborhood should have allowed. It made Jason almost afraid to touch anything.

"There's a med kit in the bathroom. Feel free to clean yourself up and make use of it," Selina was already pulling off her goggles and helmet, stripping out of her gloves.

"Yeah, yeah I can take a hint."

"The hint being that you look like you've been through the wringer," She said, scratching the ears of a grey cat that leapt onto the kitchen counter to greet her. "Might want to at least pretend to be at 100% if you're going to try for this loner thing."

"It's been an off month," Jason said, pulling off his boots.

"Kind of figured that out, what with Black Mask of all people getting the better of you."

"Bastard got lucky."

"It was a matter of time before someone put it together. Does seem kind of obvious in hindsight."

"Most things do."

A kettle began to warm on the stove.

"It might go without saying, but everyone's heard, Jason. The street thugs. The inmates in Arkham and Blackgate. And now that the Rogues have confirmed it, everyone who doesn't already believe it will."

"And?"

"And you're on a quick path to winding up dead again if you keep carrying on like this. Judging by the crater that's still smoking out there you've already lost what influence and protection you had with your subordinates." Selina crossed her arms. "You need to leave town."

"Give Black Mask what he wants? No thanks."

"What he wants is your head on a pike. But I know you can disappear, I know you've got friends out there. Ditch Red Hood, take up a new name and don't come back for at least a couple years. There's nothing more you can do here now."

Jason placed his utility belt on the floor with a heavy thud.

"I can turn this around."

" _How_?" Selina asked. "I saw the pictures that Mask has been sending out. Harley texted them to me, who got them from Riddler who got them from Penguin who got them from Freeze."

"Then what, everyone conspired in the chatroom to grab my ass? You guys really are a club, aren't you?"

"This is serious. If the Rogues take an interest it's going to be a whole new ballgame. You know how they are - if Black Mask doesn't finish you off people _will_ start forming a line to 'play' with you themselves," Selina said.

As if they weren't already.

"No one is going to believe you aren't associated with Batman and they don't care how estranged you are. Throwing the name 'Robin' into that mix is like lighting a match to gasoline. The dumber ones are going to come at you for petty revenge or glory, the heavy hitters will use you as a pawn against him. And it'll work."

"Don't be so sure."

"Jason," Selina's eyes softened for a moment. "Losing you destroyed Bruce."

"Don't start."

"It was - dammit Jason, he was terrifying. He scared even _me_. No one could get to him."

"He got over it. The second another idiot donned the green tights, he got over it."

"Tim's a good kid, but no one could take your place or make Bruce forget you. I never understood why anyone would take a child into this life, but… even if I don't approve, I do see that he needed someone there."

"I could write a book about the things Batman needs," Jason said. "You think I don't know what they say about me? I was never as good as Dick, and I'm sure as hell not as smart as Tim. Not his 'real' son like the brat. I'm the odd one out, the _mistake_ , the 'failed Robin' who should never have even had the job. My dad was a deadbeat and I jerked off a few gangsters to keep my mom alive, so I'm damaged fucking goods, right? I guess it's better to have the bastards who grew up in mansions on a hill protecting all us street trash! They know what's best for us while we're too goddamn _compromised_ to do it ourselves _,_ is that it?"

Selina's expression was stoic as the kettle screamed in the background.

"You know I'm the last person to judge you for what you've done to survive."

"Why do you think I agreed to come here?" Jason stalked to the bathroom and shut the door behind him, muffling the sound of the running shower.

* * *

 

The night spent on Selina's couch was more comfortable than expected, even with the rotation of cats stepping all over him. She'd given him a pinstripe button-down to wear ("Don't look at me like that, where do you think it came from?") and a flannel blanket to sprawl under. The harsh clatter of hail that mixed with snow on the skylight overhead had been soothing, as were the vague dreams of watchful shadows and familiar cologne.

By morning he was gone as promised. Selina had left a duffel of his costume on the kitchen counter, a post-it note tacked to the side.

_'Remember what I said.'_

Jason frowned and zipped the bag up, pulling on his newly laundered jeans and tugging his jacket on. Despite taking up the persona out of spite, he'd grown fond of Red Hood. He could still give it up if need be, but not on account of Black Mask. The bastard could put a bullet in Jason's chest first.

After scrawling a simple _IOU_ on the pad by the phone he made his way out.

The sun was barely on the horizon, slowly turning overcast skies from pitch black to slate gray. He snagged himself a cab up to Crime Alley, figuring that he was probably in the clear by now to steal into his main safehouse. The clan might be riding his case but he knew Gotham's streets and backways better than any of them - he could run circles around them for a while yet. And at least while he was dressed in civvies they were the only ones he had to worry about.

He just needed to lick his wounds, get back on his feet and start reminding everyone in this city why they were afraid of him to begin with.

The Red Hood was done playing defense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaah chapter 2 is finally done. It wound up a lot longer than planned. I also did a lot of re-arranging; won't be surprised if some nonsensical sentences escaped my notice here and there as a result.  
> I know it seems random but the mention of Rose and Kid Devil is a nod to a different story I haven't told yet.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason goes John Wick on Gotham's underworld, with mixed results.

One good thing about having “crime lord” on his resume was that Jason knew exactly how to hurt one. If he had been a man with a little more to lose he might have started more modestly - planted some informants, crafted some cunning subterfuge, that sort of thing. It could’ve been great. But if Black Mask wanted to declare war on Red Hood, what else could Jason do but sabotage his drug labs with nitroglycerin?

And if, as the chemical fires burned high and hot into the night, he drove a truck piled to the roof with cocaine straight into the bay, well. That was just for fun.

The smell of gunpowder and gasoline became a musk on Jason’s skin, with his days spent hunched over a work table assembling bombs and trip wires. Meanwhile his nights were spent putting them to use on the multitude of bars and front businesses that ponied up for Black Mask’s protection.

You didn’t have to turn on the news to feel the city’s mounting tension. A power struggle, they called it, between Gotham’s two prominent crime bosses. Even without civilian casualties, the ever-savvy locals made themselves scarce in the following nights. The name Red Hood was once again spoken in lowered tones, accompanied by anxious glances over one’s shoulder.

It still wasn’t enough. Black Mask was losing money and loyalty by the second but _it wasn’t enough_. His roots dug too deep into the underbelly of the city. For the Rogues it was always the game first, the money second; crime itself was never much more than a distraction or a means to an end. For Black Mask organized crime _was_ the whole game, and whatever he didn’t own he puppeted from the shadows anyway - everything except that which had been Red Hood’s, and now he’d taken that too.

Time to take it back.

Jason was crouched in the bracken of the foothills just outside of the city, watching the headlights draw ever nearer. A special shipment was rolling into town, including a couple hundred pounds of arms and ammunition.

As much as he craved to send the bastards into orbit, the kind of explosives needed to do it risked damaging the cargo. Instead the pressure mines were of a more delicate design, sending a heavy electromagnetic pulse to the undercarriage of the truck. The life left it instantly, leaving the massive armored vehicle to trundle forward the next hundred yards by the power of its momentum alone. The car that had been following slammed its brakes, honking twice. Windows were rolled down and Jason could hear shouting.

“It won’t start, man! Everything just up and died.”

“Are you kidding me? If we wind up having to park this shit at the side of the road for a tow you get to explain it to the boss!” Doors were opening now, with men getting out to inspect the mysterious damage.

Idiots.

Two smoke bombs later and the entire street was swamped in fog.

“It’s a goddamn set up!”

“I fucking knew I should have stayed home tonight.”

Jason went for the truck driver first, cutting him off and slamming his face roughly into the side of the vehicle. The other men were ducking behind the reinforced doors their car, drawing their weapons instead of doing the smart thing and making a break for it. Jason unhitched the grenades from his belt and flung them to the rear, the deafening bang forcing men from behind their cover. They were hindered by the lingering fog, but with Jason’s training he could have fired on them blind.

Five shots, five cries of pain. Too easy.

When the wind finally whipped away the last of the smoke he stepped over the men bleeding on the ground, dragging them into a line and cruelly binding their hands. The truck driver lay unconscious on the asphalt.

“Looks like you boys are prepping for quite the party,” Jason said, climbing into the truck and taking stock of the multitude of steel chests that undoubtedly held various instruments of war. “All this for little ol’ me? Blackie shouldn’t have.”

He cracked one of the larger boxes open and took note of the gleaming array of knives.

“Don’t think it’s going to get him back in my good graces, though.”

The men exchanged anxious looks, some more pale and less lucid than others from their injuries. Jason stopped at one, finding him vaguely familiar.

“Waiiit a second. I know you, don’t I? Greg? Grant?”

“It’s, uh...” The guy cast a pleading glance at his peers, “Graham. Sir.”

“Right. You worked for me, didn’t you. Before.” Jason’s eyes narrowed behind his mask. “I hope you weren’t part of that unfortunate accident that was the East End meet.”

“N-no! I swear!“

“But you knew about it, didn’t you? And you didn’t waste time running to Black Mask afterwards.”

Graham swallowed dryly. “Hood, look - it’s just the things they were saying about you, okay! And Deathstroke, and the Rogues, I want no part of that! Black Mask’s deal was good and I got bills to pay, you know what I’m saying?”

“Uh huh. You got a family Graham?”

“I... have a dog?”

“Oh shut it. You don’t owe this punk jack shit,” another mook said, spitting blood onto the pavement.

The guy looked like a thrift store Stallone, with a nasty gash on his forehead presumably from the knockback of the grenade.

“Got a problem there, tough guy?” Jason asked, straightening up.

“Sure. Big bad Red Hood comes into town acting like he owns the place, tells us who we can and can’t deal to. Then it turns out he’s been a _bat_ the whole fucking time. Playing with guns to piss off your daddy and who pays? We do, asshole.” Thug #2 glared through the blood dribbling down his forehead. “All you costumed freaks and your games, when all we’re trying to do is make it in this city.”

“And Black Mask is gonna help you there, huh. By getting you to traffic minors and sell drugs to kids?”

“I don’t put no pills in their mouths. Rich Diamond District brats want to spread their legs or kill themselves gettin’ high, I ain’t their babysitter.”

“Right, well.” Jason pressed the gun to the guy’s forehead. “Good luck with that.”

“W-wait!”

Jason glanced dismissively aside.

“The adults are busy, Graham,” he said wryly, pulling back the hammer and re-making eye contact with his target.

“I-I got information, okay?” Graham stammered. “Black Mask, he’s gonna make a move on you.”

“Old news.”

“Nono, see, he’s really miffed about you messing with his territory. The guys still on his protection roll ain’t paying no more, not ‘till you’re taken care of. So word is he’s prepping to take out the places _you’ve_ been looking after.”

“Unless you haven’t been paying attention, no one shells up for my protection anymore eith-“ Jason stopped. “Oh that skull-fucking son of a bitch.”

He should have seen it coming. _Stupid_ , so goddamn -

“Um... Mr. Hood?”

Jason could already feel the vehicle approaching at wicked speeds from behind him, the headlights gleaming in his hostages’ eyes and casting long shadows across the tarmac.

“Don’t tell me.”

But even the sound of the Batmobile’s fucking _brakes_ resonated with something inside of Jason’s gut.

He sighed heavily at the quick steps pattering towards him. “Now just hold on, I know it looks-“

And that’s when Black Bat nailed him with a nerve strike.

* * *

 

“I wasn’t going to kill them!” Was what Jason choked out as use of his voice returned. “Probably. Not all of them. One guy had a dog and everything.”

The familiar sounds of falling water and chattering bats echoed around them. So far Jason had been to the cave more in the past two months than the past several years combined. He didn’t like it.

“Regardless,” Bruce said coldly, staring him down. “We have been chasing you across this city for the better part of a month, Jason. This madness needs to end.”

“I’m handling it,” Jason said shortly.

“Really. Oracle has kept this... rumor from hitting the internet but the situation won’t stay contained much longer.”

“Well word took its sweet time getting to you, didn’t it.”

“And you haven’t exactly been discrete,” Bruce continued, busying himself with a table of assembled gadgets. “The destroyed drug labs, the bombings. And now Black Bat has to clean up the mess you’ve made outside the city-“

“I thought you didn’t _like_ it when I picked up after myself.” Jason sneered.

Bruce gave him a pointed look.

“You can’t go after Black Mask alone.”

“Can. Have been. Will.”

“In what condition? You’re not well. I can tell by looking at you that you haven’t been sleeping.”

“Said the pot to the kettle.”

The sound of hurried footsteps echoed down steel stairs from one of the upper platforms, and Jason felt his urgency to leave double.

“Cool your jets, will you? Last batkid that did a runner at me laid my ass out.”

Another reminder to stay wary of Cain. Talia had absolutely refused to let Jason be taught by Shiva, and not for the first time he was wondering if he’d missed out.

“Jason! I just got the call that you’d been found, finally.” Dick frowned, looking him over. “You look terrible.”

Dick wasn’t even in costume, but a loose button down and worn jeans. Looked like he’d just been crashing in one of the infirmary beds.

“We can’t all model for Calvin Klein,” Jason said flatly before turning his back to both of them. “Now, not that this isn’t fun and all, but I’ve got things to be getting back to. _Messes_ to clean up, and all that.”

“You’re not going anywhere.”

He stopped short.

“... I don’t think I got that,” he said, voice dangerously calm. “Come again?”

“Black Mask’s vendetta is against you, and your methods are only going to cause collateral damage if left unchecked. I’m taking it from here.” Bruce finished slotting devices from the table and onto his belt.

“Are you now?” Jason asked lowly.

“You’re going to stay in our custody here at the cave until the matter is resolved.”

“We’re just trying to help.” Dick said, working his way between them. “We’ve been seriously worried about -“

“I don’t need your help or your worry. I’ve gotten by just fine without it,” Jason said, walking with purpose to the platform where the vehicles were parked.

“ _Jason_ ,”

His steps faltered and he hated himself for it.

“We’re not doing this. Absolutely not.” He powered on, mounted one of the default bikes and launched down the exit tunnel.

* * *

 

“You can’t just let him leave,” Dick said, watching the tail lights fade.

“I’m not.”

Bruce went to the computer and brought up the camera feeds from the tunnel. Quick red blurs across the various screens marked Jason’s progress. A command was typed into the console and Dick saw on one screen that the blast doors at the end of the passage - the ones that opened when motion sensors detected an exiting vehicle - were beginning to close.

Jason would have seen it by now.

“... He's not slowing down," Dick said, casting Bruce an anxious look.

He did nothing, a statue of black kevlar.

"He's injured. You can't be - _reopen the doors_ , Bruce."

Jason kept his speed constant, hurtling straight towards the sealing cave entrance.

"He'll stop."

"He is _exactly_ as stubborn as you are and you know he won’t! Just let him go, I’ll chase him down myself!” Dick glanced anxiously between him and the monitors. " _Bruce._ "

Bruce didn't move, gaze fixed and intense on the monitor as Red Hood quickly drove ever closer to what was soon to be a dead-end.

Jason's pride didn't cave to self-preservation until he was about five seconds from a head-on collision.

He fired his grapple behind him and it anchored to the roof of the tunnel, harshly pulling him away from the doomed bike. The act wrenched his shoulder, but at least enough of his inertia was diverted to keep him from being splattered across the passage floor.

The motorcycle struck the sealed cave entrance in a scream of metal and shattering glass; the entire front end crumpling against the blast doors.

He flipped off the camera watching him.

* * *

 

”The both of you are absolutely insane! The most bull-headed, selfish - I can't _believe_ -"

Jason's expression was flat but his eyes were dark with disdain as Dick administered medical attention, ranting all the while. He was perched atop a medical table and aiming stony, chilled silence at Bruce from where the latter was sat by the computer. His arm was starting to swell even with the cold compress held against it.

"I swear the two of you are shaving time off of _my_ lifespan, now!" Dick muttered, taking a splint and assembling it around Jason's wrist.

"I dunno what you're so pissed at me for," Jason said shortly. "Aside from the usual. He's the one who wouldn't keep the damn exit open.”

"And you're the one who tried to play chicken with blast doors! You shouldn't have even driven off at all, especially not in your condition."

Jason opened his mouth to retort that his ‘condition’ clearly hadn't been a priority five minutes ago.

“You are to stay here until further notice, Jason.”

His jaw snapped shut as he re-fixed Bruce with a cold glare.

"Get out of my business, old man."

“When I return, we’re going to have a serious discussion about your future in this city,” Bruce said as if uninterrupted, pulling his cowl on.

“Oh, talking. That’ll be an exciting first for you.”

Batman ignored him and made for the Batmobile without even a backwards glance.

“I want him watched at all times. He doesn’t leave.”

“Am I still allowed dessert after dinner? What about my _Gameboy_!?” Jason shouted over the roar of the engine, earning him some irate screeching from the bats.

He dug his nails into his palms as the car shot off into the dark.

“I don’t know about all that, but you could sure do with a nap,” Dick said bitterly. “Seriously Jason, when was the last time you slept?”

“I sleep plenty.”

An hour between projects, a micronap waiting for the right time to strike one of Black Mask’s establishments. He’d gotten by with less.

“Sure. Well feel free to get comfortable, looks like we’re in for a long night.”

And in that moment they both knew it to be horribly true.

* * *

 

Several hours later and Jason’s campaign to torment Dick into giving him even a moment of solitude had yet to succeed. Not for lack of trying, either.

“Jason, this is seriously immature,” Dick said, watching him remove the bolts that were holding the second Batmobile’s tires on.

“Then come over here and stop me, Golden Boy.”

“I’ve told you a dozen times already, I am not sparring with you in your condition.”

“Sounds like the coward’s excuse.”

Dick made a frustrated noise, fingers clacking across a laptop keyboard. Tinkering with BCPD case files, probably. He glanced at the cave elevator.

“You think Alfred will be back soon?”

“He dropped the tea tray off like an hour ago, Dickhead. Gotta be making dinner by now. Why?” Jason paused. “Oh. Amazing.”

“Just forget it.”

“Uh huh. Tell me, the waterfall there is really relaxing, don’t you think so?”

“Jason,”

“I mean some people might find it distracting. Two rivers, that’s a lot of water.”

“You being a brat hasn’t changed,” Dick said irritably.

“Well by all means piss yourself on my account,” Jason said, finally dislodging the tire. “I’m sure that’s what Bruce wanted. And then we can just live with that for the next-“

“Oh for the love of - I am seriously considering locking you in the Kryptonite vault until dinner.”

“Come and try it.” Jason rolled the tire a few inches back and forth. “Y’think I could make a swing with this and hang it from the T-Rex?”

“No, and you’re not going to put that idea in Damian’s head either.”

“Worst. Babysitter. Ever.”

Was Jason pissed? Absolutely. But the more he thought about it, the more he considered how to turn the situation in his favor. They couldn’t keep him here forever, Jason had snuck out of the cave more times than he could count back when he still wore pixie boots. Let Batman think he had the upper hand and be a distraction for Black Mask. Jason would reap the intel and then be gone before sunrise.

At least that _was_ the plan, before it was drowned out by the soft rumble of an approaching and deep purple motorcycle.

Batgirl parked alongside the lopsided Batmobile, taking off her helmet with a short wave. “Sup dudes. I see the Red Bucket has been found. I just heard that Batman is out knocking heads all his lonesome tonight so I thought I’d pop by, see who’s around. I guess Tim and Little D are still doing that W.E. investigation?”

“Yeah, it’s just us here. We’re having a whale of a time,” Jason said flatly.

“Is everything alright, Stephanie?” Dick asked, closing his laptop.

“Actually-“

“Everything’s great,” Jason said before she could respond. “You know Batgirl and I are fast friends. In fact, I can stand her company a lot more than yours right now. So why don’t you scram like I know you’re dying to do and leave us be.”

Dick’s brow furrowed. “Jason -“

“Unless you don’t think Batgirl’s capable.”

Stephanie perked up. “Yeah, Dick. Don’t think I can handle him?”

“I doubt any of us really can,” Dick said dryly. “I’m not leaving, Jason. But Steph, if you could keep an eye on him for just five minutes, I’d really appreciate it.”

“Sure thing.”

“Don’t make a mess on yourself,” Jason said, watching him until he was out of sight.

“Ookay, you want to fill me in?” Stephanie asked. “Because I know we had some cosmic chemistry in those three minutes we spent watching mobsters move boxes, but -“

“You’re here for a reason. Why.”

It could have been nothing, but Jason wasn’t one for wishful thinking. And he knew she patrolled the border between Mid and Uptown.

“Rude.” Her nose wrinkled with offense.“Like I said, I wanted see who was available tonight. I just picked up chatter about a bunch of cars passing through Crime Alley that are way too sleek for the area. I’m thinking some kind of deal or meeting? I can scope it out on my own -“

“No.”

“No?”

Jason could see it all in his mind’s eye: Batman out tracking Black Mask, Oracle busy rifling through paper trails to find the bastard’s main base. But Sionis wouldn’t be there.

“We’re going to Crime Alley to beat up bad guys,” Jason said, grabbing his helmet. “because no one trusts me to be alone and you’re the only bat I can halfway stand right now.”

“Oh really.”

“Yep.” Jason zipped up his jacket. “And it’s going to make Batman really, really angry.”

“Well, when you put it like that…” Stephanie smiled, slow and sharp. “Age before beauty?”

* * *

 

They were halfway across the bridge when Dick’s voice crackled in their ears.

_“-five minutes! I was gone for - Batgirl what are you doing!?”_

“What, I’m chaperoning him, like you said!”

_“Red Hood is under house arrest until the situation with Black Mask is resolved. He’s not supposed to leave the cave!”_

“Well how was I to know that!? No one tells me _anything_!”

_“Just- just turn around and we can forget this happened, okay? Jason, you get back here right now or I swear -“_

“Sorry Dick, you’re breaking up.”

As he cut communications he could feel Batgirl debating whether or not to run him off the road.

“House arrest, huh.”

“That ain’t my house.”

“You used me.”

“Yeah. Because everyone else in your damn flock has their head up their ass, and we have a job to do. Black Mask is going hit the places under Red Hood’s protection, and you know what those are right now? Free clinics. Homeless shelters and soup kitchens. Even the Wayne Foundation’s money can’t fully shield a place from the area it’s in, so I have to. Are you on board or not?”

Jason could hear her angry breathing over the channel as they weaved through traffic. But he knew Black Mask was the sore spot to press.

“I am _so_ decking you when this is over, Hood.”

“You wanted to piss off Batman. This is how the master does it.”

When they finally rolled into Crime Alley, it wasn’t hard to find the shiny black cars that Batgirl reported. They had barely bothered to be discrete, parking near the entrance of a small, run-down orphanage.

“They’re going to be on cinderblocks by the end of the night,” Batgirl said, enabling her bike’s security.

“Maybe. Black Mask’s reputation might be enough of a deterrent.”

“Would it have been for you?”

Jason smirked, scoping out the empty street.

“I’ve got an arrangement with this orphanage; I pay them to sneak runaways in for shelter in the winter, and the staff doesn’t report them to the cops.”

“Isn’t that illegal?”

“It’s Crime Alley,” Jason said like it was self-explanatory. “It’s only seasonal, anyway. Some kids would rather freeze than go back to their homes. This keeps them from doing either.”

The pair of them edged around the perimeter of the building.

“It’s too quiet.”

“Well it’s 3AM, dude. And in case you haven't heard, there's a gang war between two masked assholes and no one's going out anymore.”

“Touche'.” Jason shrugged. “The kids are the priority. We split up, go through the place and see if we can evacuate as quietly as possible. Stay sharp; it’d be just like Mask’s goons to be lurking around planting bombs and shit.”

Batgirl hesitated, clearly not comfortable leaving Jason alone.

“Nightwing’s already called the cavalry and they’ll be honing in on our rides any minute now,” he said. “But we can’t wait.”

She nodded. “Alright. But easy, okay? If Black Mask’s goal was destroy the places under your watch, he’d have just burned this building to the ground already. Something else is happening here.”

“Noted.”

The pair of them tackled the building from opposite sides, slipping in quietly through the windows. Jason waded through dark aisles of rickety desks in a classroom that still had a chalkboard. The orphanage was one of the oldest in the city and every creak felt deafening in the silence. He turned on the night vision of his helmet and navigated to the front lobby, where he inspected the front door and found the lock broken.

 _“Hood,”_ Batgirl’s voice whispered through his helmet. _“I’m in the staff wing... I think I found the matron.”_

“Is she dead.”

_“Yeah.”_

“Keep looking for the children.”

_“I don’t think anyone’s here.”_

“Someone has to be. Those cars are still parked outside.”

_“Jason, look around. There is no way this isn’t a trap. Nightwing and the others are less than an hour behind us, maybe we shouldn’t -“_

“I am not going anywhere without those kids,” Jason said firmly.

There was a worn carpet running down the adjacent hall, and at the foot of a heavy wooden door it was rumpled. As if kicked or dragged.

“Of course.”

Of course it was a trap. Of course the insistent voice in the back of his mind told him to wait for Batman.

But he couldn’t.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES okay I caved in and made it 4 chapters, goddammit. Next chapter is also going up tonight so I can be Free


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things get kind of resolved, and there's a lot of talking

There was a goddamn baby.

Those were the first words in Jason’s mind after the flash bang grenade went off, stunning him because he’d still had his fucking night vision on. A baby was screaming and someone drove what turned out to be a fucking  _sledgehammer_ into his gut, and even with armor that shit took his wind out.

The lights in the cellar had turned on and Jason was mostly blind but he could hear the muffled shouting of children locked in the next room over.

“This really should have been the first big hint for me,” Black Mask sounded about three yards away and Jason could shoot him now, could shoot _everything_ in this room, but he can tell the bastard's holding the baby and there could very well be other kids in here. “What kind of crime boss gives free protection to orphans he’s not pulling from? You don’t sell to them, you don’t sell them _to_ anyone. Drug lord with a heart of gold? Not likely.”

“Put the kid down, you sick fuck. This is between you and me.” He was blinking rapidly to clear the spots in his vision, hand clutching his gun with his finger on the trigger.

“That’s what I thought, before your old man started fighting his way through my boys. Figured it was time to cut the foreplay short.” Black Mask said , ignoring the baby’s wails. “You know when you first came to Gotham, you were like some kind of mythic figure. Built yourself up right quick, and no one knew who or what you were. But it turns out you’ve got one _hell_ of a weak point, don’t you?”

There was Batgirl in his ear, _“Hood we were right, this whole place_ reeks _of gasoline, there has to be an incendiary device around -“_

That hammer came down on his head from behind, knocking him further onto his knees as Batgirl’s voice gave to static.

“I feel like you’re not entirely present, Hood.”

Jason’s eyesight had returned enough to see that Black Mask was holding the breathless, sniffling baby in one hand and a pistol in the other.

“This is as good as getting you by the balls, isn’t it? Maybe better.” Black Mask gave the infant a little jostle, causing it to whine loudly. “Red Hood, champion of the poor and the pitiful. Cute.”

“Tell me you have more planned than talking me to death.”

“Well I did order some toys for us to try out, but then you went and got them impounded. So here’s what we’re gonna do.” He cocked his pistol. “You’re going to have a seat and behave. Because if you don’t, I’m going to start feeding tragic little orphans into the furnace next door. Starting with this one.”

Jason gave a raspy laugh. “I’ve already played this game before. So not impressed.”

“We’ll see.”

Batgirl’s attention would be on finding the bomb, but a cellar this size had to have multiple entrances. With a quick movement he detached the suppressor on his gun and fired at nothing. The shot echoed loudly in the underground chambers. She’d hear it. He’d keep these fuckers entertained and she’d find the kids. She had to.

One of the goons kicked the gun from Jason’s hand, forcing him up and then into a creaky steel chair. His hands were bound to the armrests, putting sharp pressure on his braced wrist.

“I thought the point of this was that I wouldn’t struggle,” Jason said, flexing his fingers.

“I’m not an unfair man,” Black Mask said. “I don’t expect you to be fully able to help yourself.”

* * *

 

Stephanie flinched when she heard the gunshot, because for fuck’s sake the kitchen was so swamped in gas that Firefly’s sneeze could have set it off. But Jason wasn’t responding to comms and the shot had come from downstairs, a basement.

She’d _told_ him it was a trap. The bomb would have to wait; it was safe to assume nothing was scheduled to blow before Black Mask and his men put the orphanage in their rearview mirror. The filtration mask on her face was designed for fear toxin but worked against gas leaks just as well as she searched for a basement entrance. She found one by the food storage doors and before she was halfway down the wooden stairs she could hear the shouting, desperate voices of children.  The noise came from around the bend, as did the idle shuffling of a guard.

Bare lightbulbs were placed intermittently down the cold passageways of the cellar, the wires exposed and bolted to the stone ceiling; Stephanie sliced through them with a baterang and the entire hall fell into darkness.

“God damn slums and their faulty wiring,” A gruff voice said from beyond the shadows.

“I dunno, man. This place gives me the creeps. Who knows what shit is down here.”

“Well if it ain’t haunted yet, it’s gonna be.” There was the sound of a fist banging on heavy wood. “You brats hear that!? Pipe down or you’ll all be seeing some ghosts real soon!”

In letting her eyes adjust, Stephanie could see the sliver of light that emanated from beneath a doorway. It made the bulky shadows that were the guards stand out all the more.

Her takedown was quick - a silencing hit to the throat, a tazer to the gut before spraying knock-out gas in the other guard’s face like it was mace. The door they’d been watching was old and a breeze to pick.

It opened up into a boiler room where immediately the wide eyes of nearly two dozen children turned to her.

“Batgirl!” Several of them jumped up, suddenly looking more excited than afraid.

“That's me. Is everyone okay?”

“We’re fine,” One girl said, even though she was nursing a black eye. “My gran hit harder than these clowns.”

Stephanie’s mouth quirked. Crime Alley kids were something else.

“But the ugly guy took the new kid!” A small boy exclaimed, tugging Batgirl’s sleeve. “And we heard a gun -“

“First thing I need to do is get _you_ out. Do you know how many men the ugly dude came here with?” Stephanie asked.

“There was these two,” one girl said, pointing at the unconscious men. “and maybe five more? There were others too, but I think they left. They said Batman was coming.”

A pause.

“But I think you’re _way_ cooler.”

“Yes I am. What about a guy with a red helmet on his head? Makes him look kinda like a Lego man?”

“We know who Red Hood is," one boy said with a dramatic eye roll. "He has to be coming too, right? He's made bad men go away before."

Stephanie frowned. They hadn't seen Jason, but he would have to handle himself a little longer. The kids took priority.

"Okay. Now the way I came in isn’t safe, do you know of any other exits in this cellar?”

“Yeah, that way leads to the back garden,” One kid pointed down the darkened hall. “We’ve used it for fire drills.”

“Perfect! It’s a fire drill now, so do what your matron told you to when you need to evacuate.”

Immediately the kids began to clumsily pair into buddies, organizing into a haphazard line.

“Wow. That’s adorable. Alright, here we go.”

* * *

 

“So what’s the deal with you anyway? Obviously you and the Batman had a falling out. Didn’t hug you enough?” Black Mask asked, lighting a cigar.

He’d passed the baby to one of his men, who looked thoroughly uncomfortable about it.

Jason spat a wad of blood onto the cellar floor.

“Didn’t get me the new bicycle I wanted for Christmas.”

“Heh. Just funny to wrap the mind around, isn’t it? Up until a few years ago Batman was a fucking cryptid. People said he came out of a cave in the hills. But I can tell you weren’t raised in any woods. Gotham boy, no question.”

“I get that a lot.”

“You’ve caused me a lot of trouble, Hood. Still, I’m almost sad to see you go.” Black Mask tilted Jason’s head back, pensively examining his helmet.

“Ugh, dude. Personal space.”

Black Mask ignored him.

“What do you think the Batman’s gonna do about it, huh? As much as he did for the girl? As much as he’s ever done with the Joker?”

Jason grimaced.

“Because if that’s the case, I think that’s a big, fat _nothing._ ”Black Mask flashed his bloodstained knife against the light. “And I think _you_ think so too.”

When the explosion erupted, Jason almost wasn’t sure it was real. The world seemed to rock with the force of it, sending plumes of dust and dirt raining down upon them. Jason’s chair was knocked back, the smell of gasoline and smoke suddenly overpowering.

“What the fuck was that!? We still had -“

Jason was fumbling with his injured wrist and three broken fingers to undo his bindings amidst the shouts. He could barely see through the smoke but he could hear the baby screaming again, god -

Unfamiliar hands grasped him under the arms and Jason’s first instinct was to struggle, but his leg was busted and the smoke was filling his lungs in an all too familiar way.

It was one hell of a time to have a panic attack, because the urge to hyperventilate only made it worse, only made his chest burn hotter. The person manhandling him wasn’t built like a tank likeBlack Mask’s men, but leaner, and mostly dragged Jason across the ground.

“The baby-” Jason coughed. “You have to - fucking let go of me -“

The stranger didn’t speak, didn’t comply, only forced Jason further down the corridors of the cellar. Away from the fire and a voice he could swear was calling his name.

* * *

 

When Jason opened his eyes, all he saw was white.

He immediately felt somewhat pissed off, because he didn’t want heaven last time and he most definitely didn’t want it now, but a few blinks later he realized he was staring up at a ceiling. An unblemished ceiling in a clean, sterile room. He was lying in a hospital bed, body blissfully numb in a way that signified very good drugs.

Hospital. How did he get to a hospital? Jason stared vacantly at his surroundings for what felt like moments to his fuzzy brain but was probably several minutes. He flinched when the door opened and a nurse poked her head in.

“Welcome back, Mr. Head. How are you feeling?”

“Mister… what?” His voice was rough and broken.

“That’s the name on your chart.” The nurse continued, unfazed. “Do you prefer Jason?”

He gave the nurse a long, blank look, cogs in his mind slowly turning.

Oh. Did they find his old credit cards? But he didn’t usually take those with him as Red Hood.

“… It’s pronounced ‘heed’,” he said finally, letting her shine a flashlight in his eyes.

“Ah, I see. My apologies.”

Jason reflexively checked his wrists. They weren’t cuffed to the bed.

“How long have I been here?”

“You were brought in two nights ago. You’re quite lucky - we see a lot of gang beatings in here, and most of them don’t come out of it as well as you did.”

Jason blinked uncomprehendingly, but the nurse seemed to dismiss it as him being high to the point of stupidity.

The doctor came a few minutes later, talking about a mild concussion, a broken leg, three broken fingers, a sprained wrist, fractured collar bone, mild damage from smoke inhalation, multiple lacerations and an even longer catalog of additional minor injuries. Asked him if he remembered the assault (“Not really”) and mentioned that the cops would be by to take his statement later (“Can’t wait”).  He let himself pass out in the hopes of prolonging _that_ little discussion, and woke up some hours later with a clearer head and a more persistent ache in his battered body.

When his bleary vision came back into focus, it was on the sharp points of perfectly lacquered nails tapping against crossed arms.

“Oh no,” Jason hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “please be a hallucination.”

“Wishful thinking does not suit you, Jason.”

“I’m unconscious. Go away.”

“You will open your eyes and face me like the man you claim to be,” Talia al Ghul said, unamused. “I have traveled too far and witnessed too much of the mess you’ve made to accept any less.”

“You came from Metropolis, that’s like a 5 hour drive, tops.” Jason coughed.

Everything about Talia was precise and severe, from the arc of her eyeliner to the point of her heels. She was dressed in business casual and looking at Jason like she was about to tell him why he’d failed his performance review. Maybe she was.

“I am very disappointed, dearest. All of the time and resources I invested in you, and you still go and repeat past mistakes.”

Jason gave her a dark look, anger licking through his chest.

“I wasn’t going to sit around and wait for Batman. Lives were at stake.”

“Oh I speak not for your ridiculous proclivity for self-sacrifice. I have long grown resigned to that unfortunate quality of yours,” Talia said with a dismissive wave. “I’m referring to your recklessness. You have let your emotions get the better of you, _again,_ to the detriment of your work.”

“Yeah, yeah. I get stupid when I’m angry, I get it,” Jason said. “I didn’t need you to blow up an orphanage. Or leave a baby to die.”

“My subordinates were only following orders to save your life. The diversion was necessary,” Talia said. “In any case Batman arrived very shortly after my agents and the infant you speak of was extracted.”

Jason felt his anger deflate somewhat. “And Black Mask?”

“They are still searching the rubble for him and his men. So your distaste for my methods aside, it seems to have ended more favorably than your plan to be tortured to death.”

“What the hell else was I supposed to do? Black Mask had me over a barrel. And from the start none of this was actually my fault!”

“Fault is irrelevant. Your handling of the situation is what I take issue with. One call to me and I could have had that disgusting creature disposed of within the week.”

“Well excuse me if I don’t ring others up to fight my battles!”

Talia al Ghul had a glare that could make the devil flinch and Jason found his gaze lowering.

“You are a stubborn and sentimental boy,” she said coldly. “And I blame myself for how I’ve spoiled you.”

Jason’s head snapped up.

“ _Spoiled-!”_

“I allowed you to work independently and unsupervised when you were nowhere near stable enough. I was emotionally compromised when I made that decision, and it was my error to allow it to stand for so long.”

Jason opened and closed his mouth wordlessly. “You- I don’t- fucking _obviously_ you haven’t, since you have your damn ninjas in the wings to haul my ass out of burning buildings!”

“I always keep tabs on your and Damian’s progress,” Talia said flippantly. “And it was not hard to hear you were having troubles. I see you have not yet mastered the art of subtlety.”

Jason huffed, staring determinedly at the wall.

“Well, it’s done now. Black Mask isn’t going to be a problem anymore. The end.”

“Hardly.”

At that moment the door was forcefully swung open. Bruce Wayne was in the doorway, looking like his grip could break the handle off and his gaze could set fire to the pieces.

It really wasn’t fair for the universe to throw this at Jason when he couldn’t even hobble away.

“Talia.”

“Beloved,” Talia said with faux politeness. “I expected you sooner.”

“What are you doing here.”

“What I have always done. Tending to my responsibilities.”

“I’m not your - “

Jason was silenced by a sharp look. Apparently he didn’t have a place in this conversation.

Bruce’s eyes narrowed. “Explain.”

“The obvious requires no explanation. Your son’s health, his education, his financial support for the past six years did not manifest from the aether.”

Jason kept his eyes on his toes, fists clenching the sheets and willing himself to wake up from this drug-induced fever dream. Talia couldn’t be doing this, not after everything -

“For how long.” Bruce didn’t slam the door shut, but closed in a firm and controlled way that was somehow more intimidating. " _How long did you keep him from me_."

The temperature in the room dropped by ten degrees as Talia and Bruce stared each other down.

“I don’t know how recent it was after his resurrection that I found him,” Talia said finally. “He has no clear memory of that time; whatever unearthly force orchestrated his revival, it only truly healed his mortal wound."

"… Jason asphyxiated,” Bruce said tightly, like the words were sharp in his mouth.

“His lungs were indeed functional. His brain on the other hand, suffered severe impact trauma. He was barely responsive. I tried everything to restore him but my father grew impatient and would have sent him away. So I did the only thing left I could.”

“So it was a Lazarus pit after all.”

“Only for a moment. Unfortunately I underestimated the pit's influence: the waters go to the most pressing injury, and in healing his mind they saturated it. Though I tried to stall his bloodlust with training and teachers, the effects lingered for well over a year."

Bruce glowered at her for a long moment.

“You created the Red Hood."

Jason lurched to sit up at that because how fucking _dare,_ but Talia stopped him with a hand on his chest.

"Don't be so quick to deny the boy credit. He is committed and driven for his cause,” Talia said. "I risked my father's wrath for his sake and it was worth the effort. Jason is remarkably gifted.”

"You taught him to kill."

"I helped him to channel the pit madness, and it was no easy task,” Talia said, utterly unapologetic.

Bruce's face became even more cold.

“So. You’ve had him since the beginning and never thought to tell me.”

“My father forbade it. And even so, I would not return him broken or rabid. By then the circumstances were not favorable, as you know.”

“If your goal wasn’t to use my son against me or return him, why? Not charity. You must have had some endgame in mind.”

“I… had modest notions that one day he could be the right hand of our son,” Talia said carefully.

Jason’s eyebrows shot up because he had certainly never heard _that_ before.

“But that was not my goal nor motivation.” She kept a placating hand on Jason’s shoulder. “Everything that I have done, that I’ve _ever_ done, has been out of love.”

Bruce looked at her critically, as if trying to gauge her sincerity. Talia kept her head level and maintained his gaze.

“And what will you do now?”

“I allowed Jason to leave too soon, and his lifestyle has only enabled his more unhealthy tendencies. It’s of no benefit to him to continue in this fashion.”

“I’m doing just fine.”

"I have been by your hovel," Talia said coolly. "It is even more distasteful in person, and the view from my surveillance did it no favors. I have stored all of what seems to be of value and suggest you burn the rest."

“You can’t - the past two months have been rough okay, excuse me for letting the interior decor slip a little -”

"You have more than enough funds at your disposal to keep yourself from living in squalor. I find your masochism troubling."

“I needed to live in the rougher side of town, that was the point. And any of the revenue I make from my operation either gets recycled back into it or redistributed to the community. I'm not here to make money."

"That is fortunate considering that your empire has crumbled around you in a matter of weeks," Talia said. "Gotham is no longer safe for you. Come with me, Jason. You will be safe and we can further your training if that is your wish."

"Out of the question,” Bruce said.

"And what right do you have to deny me?" Talia asked. "What reason does Bruce Wayne have to even be in this room?  I have no doubt you'd concoct some passable fabrication. But once again I have made family my _first_ priority,” Talia said. "Surely you cannot expect Jason to stay. He is targeted by every malefactor and hoodlum in the state, and more will come."

"Leaving Gotham isn't the problem. It's leaving with you and your assassins that I take issue with."

"Oh my god, will you two stop? I'm not leaving Gotham." They both opened their mouths, but Jason was done being cut off. "You honestly think I'm going to let Black Mask actually drive me out of town?”

"Jason. Red Hood served a purpose but that project is done," Talia said in a way that was firm and gentle and so maternal it made Jason's insides twist. “Even with your enemy perishing in the fire, your subordinates have abandoned you and your weakness is widely known.”

"So I'll start over."

"You have made such a spectacle of yourself that any new face that emerges with methods similar to yours will be suspected. Returning to this wretched city at any juncture is ludicrous. Your stubbornness is going cost you your life."

"Again, you mean." Jason snapped, turning on Bruce. "So what? If I don't go with her, what hole are you gonna toss me into to keep me out of trouble this time?”

Bruce paused, clearly trying to choose his words carefully.

"Your estrangement from the family has everyone who's ever been slighted by us seeing you as an ideal target.”

"Thanks for the cliff notes _detective_ , any other great insight to share?"

"If you were to come back -"

"No. Fuck no. We've established that I'm a screwup, okay, fine! But if you think that I'm going to come crawling back to the nest for daddy's protection so you can all treat me like some rabid pet, you can get fucked!" Jason didn't care if the entire ward heard him. 

"I know this is difficult for you," Bruce said sternly. "But no matter what, I will do everything in my power to ensure your safety, even as you insist on sabotaging it for your pride."

"Pride!? You-"

“Have been chasing you up and down the city trying to preserve your wellbeing."

Jason laughed cruelly. "Is that what that was? Because from where I'm standing it looked a lot like _pity_ because everyone found out I spent my formative years whoring!"

"I will not permit you to speak that way about yourself," Talia said dangerously.

"I let perverts fuck me for money.” Jason hissed. "I'm pretty sure that's the definition of a whore."

"Jason," Bruce stepped forward, resting a tentative hand on the bed. "You are not staying in Gotham unless it's as an integrated member of the fold, and that's not happening unless you follow the rules. As a vigilante, not a crime lord."

"Why." _Why don’t you just cut your losses already._ “I’ve already broken your rule a hundred times over.”

Bruce's eyes were intense.

"Because you are my son. No matter what else has happened.” Bruce turned to Talia. “There are still things we need to talk about.”

“Understood. But perhaps it is not a discussion we should have in front of the boy.”

Bruce’s gaze flickered to Jason, softening in that awful, guilty way as they passed over his injuries.

“Very well.”

“Hey, you can’t just -“

“We will return to you shortly.” Talia patted Jason’s unbandaged knee. “You and I must still rehearse your cover story before the authorities arrive.”

* * *

 

His cover story was that he'd been a good samaritan investigating the burning orphanage, only to get his ass beat by Black Mask’s men. It was humiliating, but Talia curtly replied that it was no more than what he deserved.

After the officers left Jason let the hours pass in a haze of drugs. One minute he’d close his eyes, the next there’d be a food tray and a paperback on his table. It was one from his childhood collection, and thumbing through the worn pages he could see all of the little scribbling notes he’d made in the margins. He wasn’t really sober enough to retain anything he read, but his chest clenched up all the same. He pinned it on the smoke damage and put the book aside.

There was only a brief knock on the door before it opened, too quick for Jason to feign unconsciousness.

“Um, hey.” Dick gently shut the door behind him. “Doctors say you’ll be released soon.”

Jason said nothing.

“I’m not here to chew you out. I mean, I’m really pissed at you, frankly, for running off but - I just want to talk.”

Dick took a seat at a respectable distance from the bed.

“I know we never really got along when you lived at the manor. That you think I didn’t care about your death -“

Christ, he was actually trying to continue their conversation from that night on the roof, after Deathstroke. How fucking long had he been rehearsing this?

“Of course you cared, Dick. Same as you care when any schmuck dies within a ten mile radius of you.” Jason rolled his eyes. “I so don’t want to be having this conversation. Look, fine, you’re sorry. I release you from your fucking guilt or whatever, geez.”

“Jason, that’s not…” Dick pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “It’s not fine. You were - you’re family. I didn’t mean to make you feel like anything less. It was just the timing; Bruce and I weren’t speaking, my own life was a mess and to be painfully honest… I think I was a little jealous.”

Jason blinked uncomprehendingly.

“Of _what?_ ”

Dick shifted uncomfortably, waving his arm in a vague motion. "I mean, geez it's - I know Bruce doesn't have _favorites_ -"

Jason snorted.

"- but a person could really be forgiven for thinking it’d been you.”

"The fuck are you talking about."

Dick groaned, running a hand roughly through his hair.

“That’s how it felt. He was _so_ excited to have you, everyone could see it. Practically glowing when he talked about you, how eager you were, how savvy, how quick you learned and how hard you worked. You made him laugh on the anniversary of his parents'  _deaths_ for god’s sake; you were the _best_ and you would have been the best and he’d have given you everything. While I faded out of his life.”

Jason shifted uncomfortably.  “Oh please. He never let me out of his damn sight because he didn't even trust me to handle shit alone."

"Okay yes, he did smother you a little. And again, maybe the way he and I left things off had something to do with it,” Dick said. "Look, my relationship with him was a wreck so seeing you two made me feel, I dunno, like I was the trial run. The lead-up to the real son. And officially you _were_ his son before I was."

"That doesn't mean anything. The fact that he still adopted you when you were a grown ass man just shows it," Jason said, avoiding Dick's gaze. "You were the one who could do no wrong. I was always fucking up."

"Jason, you scared him. A lot. He couldn't understand why you were always throwing yourself into dangerous situations without thought or care for your safety. Making light of life and death like… like you were expendable.” Dick sighed. "I really am sorry I wasn't there for you. I've been sorry for years. I guess I just figured that you and Bruce were all the two of you needed and that I'd be the interloper. All the stuff that was happening in my own life made it easier to stay away."

“If you were so sorry, why didn’t you give a damn when I came back? I know I was on the rabid end of the spectrum but you never once tried to find me or get my side of things. Doesn’t sound like the Golden Boy I keep hearing about.”

Dick recoiled slightly.

“You were dead for years, Jason. We mourned you.”

“With a tacky plaque and a cautionary tale, yeah I remember.”

“That’s… yeah the memorial is really terrible, I hate that thing. And yes, we _did_ let ourselves think things about you that we shouldn’t have - but honestly at the time we were just trying to survive. It’s no excuse, but… you don’t know what it was like. He’s never been the same, no one has. Nearly everything about how the family functions now is based on our shoddy coping for your death.” Dick ran an anxious hand through his hair. “So after all that, to hear you were back and threatening my loved ones… I couldn’t - I didn’t _want_ to - make the connection between Red Hood and the boy we lost. To let it sink in that they were really the same person. It was easier to go on like you were…”

“Like I was what?”

“I don’t know! Someone else! Something else. I don’t know.”

Jason could feel his anger rise even through the haze of his meds.

“You’re still mourning me. You and the old man, both. You’re mourning the boy that died and I might as well be some nightmare just here to make you miserable, is that it?”

“Jason-“

“That’s how you see me, isn’t it!?” Jason snapped. “I’m not real to you. I’m not _me,_ I’m the ghost that’s insulting that dead kid’s memory! So hearing about what I used to do, that must’ve really shocked your system, huh? Big, bad Red Hood is a human after all, who’d have fucking thunk it.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Sure it’s not. You know it was the same thing with Barbara when she found out - one minute I'm getting the side-eye for not being you and then the next it’s ‘hey lemme tutor you in math’. So tell me what the fuck it _was_ like, Dick?”

“Losing you changed me too, alright! I couldn’t go a day without obsessing over keeping the others safe. Then you come in, guns blazing and people are dying - what was I supposed to do!? I couldn’t take a chance with lives at stake! We would have wanted nothing more than to have you home, me and Bruce and Alfred - and god, Jason, Tim thought the world of you!”

Jason refused to lean away as Dick stood up, hands fisted at his sides.

“And this hasn’t been easy for us either, you know! Following the rule. We’ve all lost, we’ve all been hurt -“

“Then when is it enough, Dick? Because I wasn’t enough so fucking tell me what is!”

“It isn’t about what’s enough -“

“Bullshit! If someone killed you, he would cross the line.”

“I would never want him to do that.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But he _would_.”

Dick roughly grabbed the front of Jason’s hospital gown. “Bruce loves you, you idiot! He’s let you run wild across this city on account of loving you and _I_ had to be the one ready to stop you when he couldn’t! I had to take that burden. And maybe I couldn’t do it without pretending you weren’t the same brother I lost.”

Dick sunk back into his chair and for a long moment they sat in silence.

“And it didn’t help, you know. Killing the Joker.”

Jason froze.

“I’m sorry. You what?”

Dick had the heels of his palms pressed against his eyes.

“He hurt Tim. And then he mentioned you, and I just. I lost control. He was resuscitated, but. I did it. He was dead.”

Dick sighed heavily and Jason lay back in the bed. The tension seemed to ebb from the room, leaving them both empty and tired.

“I’m not proud of it, even if the world would be better without him. You know it’s what he wants, don’t you? To push us over the edge. He was the winner that day.” Dick lowered his hands and his eyes were bloodshot, but dry. “So maybe it’s worth thinking about, Jason. Did you remake the Red Hood?Because from where I’m sitting, it’s still got the Joker’s signature all over it.”

He got up, only to hover at the door.

“I heard about Talia. I don’t have the full story, but going by experience… you know she’s probably using you, right?“

"Sure.” Jason used her too.

"And you trust her?"

"Talia's a lot of things. But no matter what, she's never given up on me. And yeah, maybe she helped make me into what I am now, which isn't all good, but… there's something to be said for being enough for somebody."

“… You're good enough for us, Jason.”

Jason huffed humorlessly. “Not even close."

* * *

When Jason was released from the hospital no one even mentioned the bill. He shook his head as he stiffly hobbled his way through the lobby, the old paperback weighing down his jacket pocket. He did not want to imagine Talia and Bruce playing at who could throw their money down the fastest.  When he saw the swarm of people standing outside the hospital, it simply didn’t connect in his brain that they might be there for him. 

Then the cameras started flashing, and he regretted everything. 

Security personnel herded the press out of his way as Jason started scanning the area for his cab. Instead a gleaming black limousine was pulling up at the curb, presumably to cart him to an even deeper ring of hell. He  climbed in, fully prepared to spear someone with his crutch. 

Bruce was sat opposite of him, hands folded in his lap.

“What the fuck is this.”

“See for yourself.”

There was a folded newspaper beside him on the seat, which Jason tore open with a vengeance. The second he saw the author was Vicki Vale he felt his mood worsen.

 

**On late Tuesday night Talia Head came to Gotham after her nephew, Jason Head was rushed to Gotham General Hospital. The 21-year-old had taken notice of the fire at Park Row Orphanage, which was the latest casualty in the power struggle between Gotham crime lords Red Hood and Black Mask, and was subjected to a brutal gang assault.**

**Head, acting CEO of LexCorp since the success of President Luthor's campaign, made the trip from Metropolis in record time to assume control of her nephew's care. Curiously enough, she was met at Gotham General by the city's own Bruce Wayne.**

**Ever since becoming the primary sponsor of the Justice League, Bruce Wayne has made the notable transition from wealthy playboy to philanthropic family man, accompanied less and less by Parisian supermodels in favor of the rotation of dark-haired, blue-eyed children under his care.**

**However Wayne’s ardent past returned to public attention two years ago in the form of Damian Wayne, whose arrival in Gotham brought to light his scandalously clandestine (and stunningly short-term) youthful elopement with Head. Unfortunately, this most recent reunion between old flames was less than serendipitous.**

**"They went into one of the empty offices to talk,” claimed an anonymous member of hospital staff. "I couldn’t make it all out but it seemed very much like they were arguing about how the boy had been raised."**

**Could this be yet another ghost of our resident billionaire's licentious youth? When asked on the matter, Wayne declined to comment save for the request that the Head family be granted respect and privacy at this time.**

"Declined. Comment." Jason's voice was dangerously low and he could feel the newspaper tearing under his fingers. "Are you _fucking_ joking."

“Talia was adamant,” Bruce said, infuriatingly calm. “that your lack of personhood was making you… irresponsible. And frankly I agreed that it wasn't a healthy way to live.”

“Well it wasn’t her decision, or yours! Now you've backed me into a fucking corner with this shit!"

Jason threw the article off his lap, the papers airily drifting to the floor.

"She did this on purpose," Jason said. "She fucking - I know she did. I know her. Always trying to 'handle' me while letting me think I'm in control like I'm not gonna notice. Tying me up with this civilian bullshit and making a media circus out of it to boot - like I really want to spend my life being suspected as your secret bastard lovechild- "

"Denying will only make it worse. I've gone through this before."

Jason scowled. Shortly after Tim was adopted the papers had started coming up with all sorts of ridiculous theories about the potential affair between Janet Drake and Bruce Wayne, digging up photos of every time the two of them had been within ten feet of each other. He remembered having a good laugh about it.

"This wouldn't be a problem if you diversified your taste in tragic orphans," Jason said, brushing paper scraps off his knee. "And if the media could distinguish between different shades beyond white.”

Because really, anyone who thought he could pass as Talia's blood was insane. He and Bruce had a similar build, but come on. Surely that couldn't be enough.

“She made some good points, Jason. Even with Black Mask out of the picture, you can’t go back to how things were. No cartel is going to fall under the command of a former Robin, and no police force is going to cooperate with a crime lord. You either work with the family, or leave Gotham.”

“And if I leave with her. You’re fine with that.”

“No.” Bruce admitted. “But I can’t really stop you.”

“I thought you _always_ could. That’s what you said.”

Bruce looked at Jason, steel blue eyes too resolute and too earnest.

“I lied.”

Jason breathed deep, unable to maintain that eye contact.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do yet. And I don’t appreciate the two of you making plans for me behind my back,” Jason said. “You want me to play by your rules when I’m in Gotham… fine. But you’re not my _boss_. I don’t report to you, I don’t check in every hour and relay all my comings and goings. And if I change my mind then that’s my choice too.”

“Alright.”

“Alright?” Jason asked skeptically, eyebrow raised. “I haven’t promised you _anything_.”

“You’ve declared the willingness to cooperate. To try,” Bruce said. “It’s enough.”

“For now, maybe. You’re treating me like a work in progress.”

“I’m treating you like the son I want to come home. Whom I have nearly lost _again_ because he doesn't believe I love him.”

Jason's breath caught and he became suddenly fascinated with the stitching of his cast.

The rest of the drive was silent. As they proceeded up the long, winding road to the estate, Jason couldn’t help but note that it was the first time in years that he’d approached the manor from this direction. He’d been in the cave, but not his former home. The grounds were flush with autumn and he was immediately hit with the familiarity of it all.

“I don’t need to be here.”

“Talia sent your things this morning. And Alfred insisted on seeing you,” Bruce said. “He would have visited in the hospital, but was otherwise occupied.”

“Really. With what? Don't tell me someone got hurt on Drake's audit for white collar crime.”

"Not exactly."  Something about Bruce seemed stiff and uncomfortable in that moment. "Anyway. Your effects are in the garage, and you're more than welcome to stay for dinner."

Jason then watched as the man all but fled before they were more than a few paces into the entrance hall. Weird.  Jason shrugged to himself and let memory guide him through the halls and into the kitchen - the room he had probably spent the most of his time in, after the library.

Alfred was at the counter, the apron around his waist so pristine Jason wondered why he needed it at all.

“Master Jason. I’m very glad to see that you’re here, if a little worse for wear.” Alfred switched off a whirring food processor and circled the island to put a paternal hand on his shoulder. “I apologize for not being available earlier.”

“Yeah, no problem. I know you do the work of ten men up here. And it's not like me getting battered is anything new.”

Alfred frowned in that instantly guilt-inducing way. “Which is not something I personally find amusing, young man.”

“Right. Sorry. So what was the emergen-“ Jason jumped at the sudden shriek that rang through the kitchen.

It was emanating from the baby monitor on the counter.

“… What is that.”

“Master Jason,”

“No, Alfred, _what the fuck is that?_ ”

“Language, sir. We still enforce the swear jar in this house.”

“That- no. He didn’t. Tell me he didn’t.”

The crying dissipated in favor of what sounded like Stephanie and Damian softly bickering about bottle temperature.

“I’m afraid that this week's incident almost completely destroyed the Park Row Orphanage.” Alfred continued. “The children had to be moved, and the young sir in particular needed some rather expensive medical care. Master Bruce took it upon himself to oversee it.”

“Alf. Bruce cannot be allowed to raise an infant. And I know picking up the slack when he’s being useless is what you do, but with a _baby_? I mean, don’t take this wrong but… how old are _you_ now anyway?”

Alfred's eyebrow ticked.

“Your father assures me that Master Terry’s stay is quite temporary.”

The wry tone in the butler’s voice told Jason exactly how much he believed that.

“Well. At least I’ll be old news once this gets out.”

“Most happy for you, sir.”

Jason took a perch at his old stool at the counter, the whole experience feeling thoroughly dream like. There must have been sedatives in the cocktail his nurses gave him.

Alfred ladled some of the fresh baby food into a small bowl.

“If you would be so kind, Master Jason.”

“Oh. Yeah, sure.” He took the bowl, even though the absolute last thing he wanted right now was to get within pouncing distance of Damian.

“And while you're upstairs you might as well rest in the bed I've prepared. We will wake you for dinner.”

“Real slick, Alf. I'm probably not staying that long.”

Alfred hummed disapprovingly as Jason took the service elevator. He was halfway to his destination when his phone rang.

“You’d better be calling to apologize.”

_“I will not. I’m making contact to apprise you on a completely different matter.”_

“Then I’m busy.”

_“I require your assistance in relation to LexCorp.”_

Jason groaned. It wasn’t common, but neither was it strange for Talia to call on him on occasion for little errands or jobs that she needed to keep quiet, even within the Assassins’ League.

“Absolutely fucking not. Did you miss the memo I sent out that clearly stated how I don’t fuck with those mad science richboy cases? Because it’s still valid.”

_“You will censor your vulgarity in my presence,”_ Talia said sharply. _“As you know, I have been made responsible for Luthor’s assets while he entertains himself with politics. I may have discovered something that will need delicate handling.”_

“You know I’m the most delicate guy around,” Jason said cautiously. “What’s the deal?”

_“We will talk more about this later, when you’re well,”_ Talia said. _“But there is a certain project scheduled for destruction that could prove a valuable asset. However, saving it would require a most… unfortunate theft.”_

“Ah." The elevator rattled to a stop. "Well I might know a half decent thief.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bet you all thought I was joking about the hodgepodge canon and me being ridiculously self-indulgent. Won't make that mistake again, will you.  
> No One's Son is finally finished (although pacing might be better edited later?) and the next work in the series will be started in due course. In the meantime I have a tumblr and am open to prompts or asks!

**Author's Note:**

> Ya'll can find me at lanternwisp on tumblr <3


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